Rose Petals
by onwingsofsnark
Summary: The royal family of Hanor was your typical normal, royal family. There were no long forgotten curses, no fairies waiting to kill, or curse, one of the children of their family. But of course, every fairy tale has some sort of drama... right? R
1. Laughter's the Best Medicine

_IMPORTANT NOTE: I started this story because I misplaced my flash drive with all my stories on it. Yep. All. In any case… you people will be the first to know when I find it! Now, stop reading this and get onto the _real_ author's note!_

**Nixiesocean: This is a fairy-tale redone. You can't tell what it is just yet, as a lot of fairy tales start with 'there once was a king and queen'. : - D. And no, this is not a 'the-princess-is-captured-and-forced-to-live-a-life-of-servitude-until-sheis-rescued-by-her-True-Love-or-brother' story. All I'll tell you is that it's a fairy tale I didn't know about until I read _The Complete Fairy Tales of the Brother's Grimm – Translated by Jack Zipes_. If by some miracle you have this book, I'll tell you what page it starts on. Page 695.**

**Hahahaa! For those of you who don't have it, you'll just have to wait until I finish the story. At the last chapter, I will tell you what the fairy tale is named, and it's story, which I hope to follow very carefully.**

**In any case, I give you…**

_Chapter 1: Laughter's the Best Medicine_

The royal family of Hanor was, in fact, a very normal royal family. No fairy was in waiting to kill a princess. There were no long-forgotten curses. There were no special powers. So, when Her Most Royal Highness Princess Mercy Anna of Hessex decided to skip her writing class with her brother, no one really bothered them.

She ran gleefully after her brother, Prince Marcus Jonas of Hessex. She laughed and tripped. Her tightly braided black hair came undone and, seeing her dilemma, Marcus, all the while laughing, went to help her up.

Mercy had black hair that sparkled in the light. Her cheeks were rosy from the biting cold of winter. Her green eyes were like jade. Even at the young age of eight, the men of the Hanor decreed she would be a jewel in the royal court.

Marcus, the elder by a year, however, had golden curls like spun gold and eyes the color of a summer's day. He was nine, going on ten, and adored his younger sister. He turned and held out his gloved hand to her.

The princess was too well behaved to go to tears over a bit of snow covering her thick wool dress and some that seeped into her thick leather, ermine-trimmed, boots. Her brother teased her about air-headed women and girls while she laughed at her own folly. Under where she had slipped she saw a sheet of ice.

"Marcus! It was a sheet of ice!" The young princess exclaimed.

He gently tousled her hair. "Mercy, ice does not allow you to be an air-headed girl!" Annoyed with her brother, she quickly picked up a bunch of the white snow and threw it at him. In turn, he scooped up snow and threw it back. It hit her dead-on the forehead.

Blood appeared in Mercy's vision. She screamed. Etiquette lessons hadn't prepared her for _this_ much blood. She cried and cried. Marcus nervously tried to clean the cut while his sister wept.

"Mercy Anna!" He scolded. "It's not _that_ bad! I get worse during training!"

She took her ruined fur gloves away from her face. They were covered in her bright red blood. She cried. "I didn't know I bled so much!" Finally, the blood stopped.

They both heard a voice over the field of snow. "Mistress! How many times have I a-told you not to go a-playing in _snow_?"

Mercy turned at the sound of crunching snow and her nursemaid's voice. "Nurse, really, I'm fine-"

"God bless!" She hissed. "Young Prince, did _you_ hit her with ice?"

Marcus looked down. "How was _I_ supposed to know there was ice in the snow?"

Mercy's tears were beginning to freeze. "Nurse, will you help me in? I want a warm – no, _steaming_ – bath when I'm done changing. Marcus didn't mean me any harm." She flashed her brother a smile who, at the moment, was blushing despite the rosy hue his cold cheeks already had. He smiled gratefully and headed inside just before the princess of Hanor. All the way home she had to endure the scolding remarks about men thinking princesses that played in snow were too unladylike and may not marry them.

Mercy only worried about the ice cutting her face might leave a scar.

- - - - - - - - - -

King Jonas Matthew of Hessex sat in his private parlor. His wife, Anna Lilly of Greyington - the queen of Hanor - sat across from him. Her daughter, Mercy Anna of Hessex, obviously got her dark hair and sparkling eyes from her mother. Although the queen's hair was beginning to betray silver lines of the elderly, her green eyes were unchanged by time. Her husband's golden hair and bright eyes had passed on to his heir and son, the prince of Hanor.

"Your turn," Anna murmured. Jonas moved a piece on the chessboard, his mind on other things. "That puts you in check, Jonas." Anna, the picture of beauty and grace, moved his piece back. "Choose again." He looked at the chessboard and moved a piece. "What's on your mind, dear love?"

Jonas finally registered her voice. "Nothing important, sweetheart." He replied. He saw her pale hand move a piece. "Where are the children?"

At that instant, Marcus and Mercy burst through the halls laughing helplessly. They heard Nurse's commands of Mercy to get into her bath and Marcus' loud voice carrying on about the snow. Anna gave her husband a knowing look and stood. She opened the door and poked a head out.

Mercy and Marcus' faces were rosy from the cold and Mercy had a small cut on her forehead. Nurse was red-faced with irritation about Mercy's lack of obedience and Marcus' urging her rowdiness. Nurse made the comment, _'what if your mother saw you?'_

Anna was known for being a playful lady. She called out, "She would be _very_ amused."

All three turned. Mercy burst into bouts of laughter and Marcus also began to laugh. Nurse's eyes bulged. "M – Your Majesty…" She stuttered.

Anna of Greyington laughed at Nurse's nonsense. "Mercy, get into a bath and wash that cut. Marcus change clothes. My lord and I will expect you in a half-hour's time." She shut the door.

The two child-royals had another bout of laughter before they obeyed their mother's command.

"They're _your_ children." Jonas told her.

"If they're not yours then whose are they?" Anna replied mischievously. "After all, I _was_ a virgin when we wed." Jonas rolled his eyes and Anna laughed helplessly.

- - - - - - - - - -

Mercy sat in her hot bath and felt the cold of the morning seep away and allowed the waters to warm her to the bone. She sighed happily and sunk deeper in her bath. Nurse tapped her foot on the floor.

"Young Mistress." She told Mercy. "Your mother wants you in _ten minutes_! Ten minutes to dress you and redo that hair of yours!"

Mercy pouted. "But the water… it's still warm!"

"I don't care! I _refuse_ to be burdened with your tardiness!" Mercy groaned and gently lifted herself from the tub. Nurse was on her with a fluffy bathrobe and in less than a minute, the princess was seated at her vanity and Nurse was wringing out the water and braiding the dark hair into a crown of braids the princess normally wore. She was dressed and her corset tied tightly in another five minutes.

Nine minutes after Nurse's complaint, Princess Mercy Anna appeared in front of her mother with her dear brother standing next to her. Anna laughed.

"This is the fifth time this week you two have escaped your writing classes." Blushing the two children nodded. "I take it you think this will be tolerated?" The two royals were wise. They shook their heads. "Well," The queen replied. "That's very good. The next time you two wish to have fun outside, take your old mother!" Grinning they gave her a hug. "On a more serious topic," She added solemnly. "Princess Hannah of Bavar will be here within the week. I want you two _on your best behavior_, understood?" They nodded. "Jonas, do you have anything to add?"

The two children's father nodded and stood. "I want this talk with Her Highness Hannah to go well. She is not used to our colder climate. I _do not_ want you two teasing her about the snow."

They nodded and chorused, "Yes, Papa."

"In any case, I want you two at your writing tutor tomorrow – no exceptions."

They nodded. "Yes, Papa."

"Good."

What King Jonas of Hanor _didn't_ know was that the two children planned on skipping history class tomorrow anyways.

- - - - - - - - - -

**I know this is all sort of odd and not going anywhere, but I _promise_ that once Princess Hannah gets into the picture, the next chapter will be fun!**


	2. A Princess of Bavar

**Nixiesocean: I'VE BEEN FOILED! _ScoutcraftPiratess_ has discovered my fairy tale! Noooo! In any case, since it's already been guessed, I'm writing a story based on _The Lion and the Frog_.**

**:-D**

**Responses:**

**_Ardelis Mercy_: I found my flash drive yesterday (the 18th of Feb)! In any case, you could, I suppose, ignore the above and continue reading. :-P**

**_Dark Ninja of Mount Hope_: Yeah, but I'm one for very little plat-background and writing a story where the action starts right away, so this is going out on a limb.**

**_ScoutcraftPiratess_: I've noticed you reading more of my stories and graced me by adding comments (thank you thank you thank you!) So, I _suppose_ (hehe) I could allow this to slide (wink).**

**You can stop listening to my useless drabbles anytime you want…**

**Don't forget to review!**

**EDIT**

**I took out the part about Mercy and the corset (thank you Bingo5 for pointing that out, I'm so used to characters that aren't 8 and more like 18).**

**/ EDIT**

_Chapter 2: A Princess of Bavar_

Marcus and Mercy were sent off to bed. Their bedchambers were next to each other, allowing the bored children to drill a small talking hole. They were dressed for bed and in them, the lights turned out. Mercy spoke first.

"Marcus? You there?"

_"Yes."_ He whispered.

"Good. Are we going outside tomorrow?" She said, though it had a hint of pleading.

_"I guess."_ He replied. _"What do you think of this southerner princess coming?"_

The thought of another princess irked Mercy. "I think Mama wants to marry you off."

_"I'm only ten!"_ He muttered.

Mercy shrugged, even though she knew her brother couldn't see it. "Negotiations take forever. Maybe they're sending out feelers – you know like bugs?" Mercy said. "Maybe Mama and Papa are getting a feel for what type of girls you like."

_"I don't like girls!"_ He hissed. When there was no reply, he added hastily, _"Except for you and Mother."_

"Thanks." Mercy grinned. "Anyways, where're we going tomorrow?"

_"I don't know. Where do you want to go?"_

Mercy laughed quietly. "The forest?"

_"No!"_ Was Marcus' reply, _"Too dangerous; we'll stick to the fields."_

"Why?" Moaned Mercy. "I _want_ to!"

There was only the flapping sound of a person getting under the covers. Mercy pouted and slid under her own covers after saying, "Good night, Marcus."

- - - - - - - - - -

Princess Hannah of Bavar sat under a layer of fur and blankets in the bouncing carriage. She saw white covering the land. She shivered. She would bet her jewels the white stuff wasn't the same as the warmth of her southern country. Her parents were unable to come; the politics of Bavar hadn't allowed them to come.

Her personal maid, a manservant and her personal guard had come. Sir John of Diamond Coast was her guard, Marie, her maid, and Marc, her manservant. Sir John told her that the capital of Hanor would be within sight in a few hours. They would ride through the city and then, in another ten minutes, the group would arrive at the Palace of Rettleburgh, the capital.

Marc sighed and buttoned his coat further. "John," Hannah commanded. "Tell me about the white stuff."

Her guard nodded. " 'Tis called snow, my lady." She sighed and watched as the small flakes of _snow_ drifted down to touch the ground. "You may not like it, Your Highness, it melts fast and makes you shiver with the cold."

"Snow?" Hannah asked. "I want to touch it. How long until we reach the palace? I want to meet these royals. What are their names again?" Hannah flipped her dark brown hair.

"King Jonas Matthew, son of Matthew Marcus, holder of the lands of Hessex." Sir John began for the thousandth time since they left Bavar nearly two weeks ago. "Queen Anna Lilly, daughter of Duke Harold Lee and Duchess Lilly Mae. Her brother currently runs the lands of Greyington near the border. Crown Prince Marcus Jonas of Hessex. Princess Mercy Anna of Hessex." He ended.

Hannah's eyes were alight, like any time she learned something new. "Do these northerners always name their children after themselves?"

Sir John, who wasn't a native of Bavar, but instead of the country between Hanor and Bavar, called Unquat, sighed. "I believe it is custom to give their first name as the child's second name. Then, as a first name you use a name from the family."

"Oh." Hannah said, crawling deeper under the covers. "Is it this cold all year round?"

John sighed. "Mostly, my lady, I have heard that for a few weeks each year Hanor is covered in pure darkness, and another few weeks pure daylight."

Hannah gasped. "But… how do they sleep in pure light? How do they go about their duties in pure darkness?" John only shrugged. "I shall ask Prince Marcus about it. Marie, add an extra layer of cloth to my clothing. I believe I shall need it." Hannah covered her nose with the cloth and warmed her nose. "I am going to sleep."

- - - - - - - - - -

Mercy threw a ball of snow at Marcus, who dodged and threw another at her. They laughed merrily while the sun shone. Marcus stopped and watched the horizon. Mercy threw a snowball at him. It hit him but he didn't notice.

"Marcus, what's going on?" She struggled to her feet and carefully walked over to him, crunching the thick snow beneath her feet.

"I think it's _her_." He whispered. "Look at the carriage! It's all royal-looking."

The princess laughed. "You're in love already, Marcus, she isn't due-"

_"MISTRESS!"_ A voice yelled over the white snow.

"Uh-oh." Mercy said. She leaned down and strapped the snow boots onto her feet. "I better be going. Nurse will be mad."

Marcus laughed while he bent and strapped his snowshoes onto his feet. "I think she already is. I'll see you in a bit, sis."

The princess of Hanor headed inside. Marcus was left staring at the carriage of the princess of Bavar. _What is she like?_ He wondered. Rapidly, he changed his question. _Why is she here?_ Mercy Anna of Hessex merely shrugged at her brother's staring and kept tromping through the deep snow.

She was met inside with a very mad looking nurse and a lot of furs. "_Nurse_!" She moaned. "I'm _fine_!"

Her heavy-set, grey-haired, steel-eyed nurse shook her head. "You won't be telling _me_ that when you're sick in bed with head-fever." She muttered while rubbing the snow off the princess. "Besides, Your Highness, we need you dressed and presentable to Her Highness of Bavar."

Mercy rolled her eyes. 'Dressed and presentable' meant uncomfortable, _formal_ gowns with tight hair. It meant high necklines and _no playing in the snow_! Her etiquette lessons haven't been for nothing!

Despite future plans, Mercy Anna was stuffed into a formal gown, of which was put on by a grumpy Nurse. Her dress was fashioned to reflect the northern climate and landscape, and her wavy black hair was plaited into loops of braids that formed so many circles that even Mercy wasn't sure where one ended and the next started. A tiara was woven into the braids and she was lightly dusted with golden flecks.

Nurse declared her beautiful. Mercy thought she looked like a doll with unreasonable hair that would fall out the instant she got hit by a snowball. She hoped the princess of Bavar wouldn't have this much trouble.

- - - - - - - - - -

Hannah was seated as close to the fire as possible. Her brown hair was drying from her near-scalding bath. Her maid picked out the dresses from a trunk. She drew out a dark blue dress that reminded the young princess of the skies above Bavar.

She was a slight girl. Her hips weren't very wide, giving her a straight frame and, due to lack of sun, her skin was a paler shade than normal, although her people had naturally darker skin. She would stand out among these northerners, that was for certain; her slight frame and darker skin would immediately give her away, even if her brown hair with a red tint didn't. The dark eyes that were so natural around Bavar now were odd. Even the guards at the gates had the lighter eyes.

A thought crept into her mind.

_What is this northerner prince like?_

- - - - - - - - - -

**You know the drill, folks.**

**Review _please_!**


	3. Formal Introductions, Secret Thoughts

**Nixiesocean: Hello, my fine readers. How are you? I'm fine, thank you for asking.**

**_Responses_:**

**_ham337d_: I've learned, over the time-span of a year, I've learned. If you want super-good stories, read authors like _Piratess of Summer_, _Ellea Dawn_, _fairygirl716_ or _Bingo5_. They're my inspiration!**

**_Piratess of Summer_: Don't deny it! You're a waaaay better authoress than me! (Onto your review) I know, I was hoping no one would own it also (_big mistake_). "My" book is actually my dad's. I stole it from his library. He has the paperback edition. Hannah and Mercy are meant to be similar, almost like twins. Hannah is the southern version of Mercy, which is why they get along. Mercy likes fun more than Hannah while Hannah loves learning. Mercy, obviously, likes the outdoors more or she'd not escape with Marcus. Mostly, Hannah is meant to be a sweet girl.**

**_Dark Ninja of Mount Hope_: Thanks. I love writing my stories, they're a good escape.**

**_FaylinnNorse_: It was pretty much a random find in the book. I went "y'know, I want to do a little-known fairy tale and turn it into a story". So, here I am, writing _The Lion and the Frog_. The brother/sister friendliness was part of the original story. Once you get later into it you'll figure out why it's so essential.**

**EDIT**

**_Bingo5_: I've seen 4th and 5th graders with boobs. It is slightly different, I agree to see 5th graders with boobs, and Hannah's the age of a 5th grader. I assume Hannah is a late bloomer. Also, Hanor is like a Germany. Remember Germany's girls? They traditionally have bigger chests and they bloom earlier. : - )**

**Really? Because I've had boys (since they're not fit to be called men) when I was her age that _hated_ me right from the start. (Blonde hair perhaps?). It isn't surprising for Marcus to 'hate' Hannah. I see it less as hatred and more of annoyance. Marcus loves the outdoors, to be drug inside for a foreign princess that doesn't know what the heck snow is would be really annoying and he'd probably have a bad first impression of her.**

**Remember, also, that being royalty, they're expected to grow up faster. : - ) We are spoiled in this day and age to be able to have our childhood last up until about eight, nine or ten. The royalty of old times would've had their childhood up until about the age of six or seven, even as early as five. Even girls, because they had to take etiquette lessons, dancing lessons, sewing lessons et cetera, et cetera.**

**Whew. Long explaination. **

**/ EDIT**

**Enough of my blabbering! Read, enjoy and _please_ review!**

_Chapter 3: Formal Introductions, Secret Thoughts and Royal Letters_

The Crown Prince of Bavar was hot, uncomfortable and unwilling to make due in these silks. This princess better be a beauty because he was annoyed at having to come _inside_ when he loved the outdoors so much.

He wanted to play with his hunting dog, Pine and Spots. Both were big dogs, wolf-bred, and faithful to the death. Both were puppies of the same litter and near copies of one another. Even his sister had trouble telling the difference. Pine was slightly darker, more bark-like. Spots had a lighter shade of brown. Both puppies had a blue-gray sock on their right paw. Both puppies also had green eyes. He loved those dogs he'd raised since last year's winter.

Princess Mercy Anna, his sister, entered. She looked stunning in a pale blue-white dress with a thin line of white fox fur for trim. Her black hair was done up in endless loops of braids and a small tiara was braided into it. Although the princess was only eight, she had a sort of beauty not normally possessed by anyone of her age. She didn't even seem awkward in her child-sized body.

She took her seat next to her brother in the line of power. King Jonas Matthew, Queen Anna Mercy, Prince Marcus Jonas and lastly, Princess Mercy Anna. The herald came up to the door. He pounded it for silence. The other nobles who made up the court silenced.

The herald coughed and spoke loudly. "Her Most Royal Highness Princess Hannah of Bavar, daughter of the Duke of Diamond Coast." As soon as the herald said "Her" the doors opened. Princess Hannah was, needless to say, not a beauty. She had a straight frame with no curves, even at the age of nine. Her blue dress didn't help her stature at all. She wore long sleeves and a thick mantle of black bear fur. She looked positively scared to the prince.

He stood, as was custom. He gave her a bow. This was all well rehearsed. "Princess Hannah of Bavar, on behalf of my family and the nobles of Hanor, I present to you, the Court of Hanor." She curtsied.

The queen of Hanor stood and spoke next. "We will take refreshments in the next room." The tense atmosphere dissipated and the nobles went to the adjoining room. The king and queen spoke quickly with their children; then left the three royal children to their devices.

Prince Marcus was at a loss for words. All three were left standing, not speaking a word.

The princess of Hanor finally broke the silence. "I've heard it rarely snows in Bavar, Princess Hannah, is that true?"

Hannah nodded. "Yes, it is. Until my journey north, I had never seen… snow."

"You've never played in _snow_?" Marcus asked, incredulous. He knew he wasn't acting like a true prince, but it was all too impossible. "Never thrown snowballs… never walked in snowshoes?"

She blushed deeply. "I'm sorry… but what's a snowshoe?"

Mercy's eyes lit up. "We'll have to show you! Are you too tired to go outside?"

The elder princess stared at Mercy. "Go… _outside_? In the _cold_?"

Marcus sighed. "Mercy's just joking, Your Highness." He gave his sister a glare and left with a bow.

Hannah nodded. She turned to Mercy. "Call me Hannah. If I'm to stay, I insist on your calling me by my first name."

Mercy curtsied. "Call me Mercy. I'm sure Marcus won't mind."

The Barvan princess' dark cheeks flushed. "Propriety demands that His Highness give me leave to call him on a first-name basis, Mercy."

Mercy, a paler, shorter princess, blushed also. "Yes, of course. Would you like to see the library of Hanor?" Hannah responded by smiling broadly.

The two princesses headed off toward the library.

- - - - - - - - - -

_The prince has nerve._ Hannah thought silently. She had enough etiquitte training not to let her irritated thoughts show through to Mercy. _He certainly knows well enough of mannerisms to be polite enough to bow._ Mercy chattered on and on about the snow. She shuttered at the thought of the cold things. _He cannot be a chivalrous knight of yore._

Even at the young age of nine, Hannah had read stories of knights that rescued damsels from furious monsters.

_And father said it might be a possible marriage! Impossible I told him!_

Hannah bit her lip chapped from telling Mercy about her thoughts.

_I will _never_ marry this barbaric northerner!_

- - - - - - - - - -

_Mercy knows I don't think of this princess fondly._ Marcus told himself. _She knows I don't approve of this ignorant southerner. She _knew_ and insisted on a _first_-name intimacy! How far did this southerner travel to get so far south she never knew _snow_? Snow is as commonplace as…_ rain

_It comes, and stays, every winter. How can she not know that? Why did she come so far north? In any case, if marriage is her intent, I refuse to court – or ask – this straight-framed princess to have _my_ hand!_ Marcus emphasized his thoughts by slamming the door to his private bedchamber.

- - - - - - - - - -

_Why doesn't Marcus approve? Hannah is perfectly amiable. She is kind and knowledgeable. She values new information and her eyes light up at the mention of new facts – so long as she doesn't have to venture out into the snow._

Mercy chattered mindlessly, her thoughts elsewhere, as they looked around the library. Hannah nodded and interjected, her mind obviously elsewhere.

_I shall have to speak with Marcus tonight. She is perfectly fine. Why doesn't her accept her?_

_Is it because she is dark-skinned and we are pale?_

_Is it because he fears her?_

WHY

- - - - - - - - - -

_Dearest Royal Cousin,_

_This meeting with our respective children has proven fruitless. My son, Crown Prince Marcus Jonas, has met, and is distinctly – no pun intended – cold toward your beauteous daughter._

_My daughter, Princess Mercy Anna, has proven a wonderful friend for Princess Hannah. They spend much time together._

_I pray, Dearest Cousin, to allow your daughter to stay longer. Perhaps my son will warm up to your daughter and a marriage at the age of eighteen still plausible._

_God bless you, Cousin._

_Jonas Matthew of Hessex_

_King of Hanor_

- - - - - - - - - -

_Fondest Cousin,_

_You letter grieves me. I had hoped this union to settle any past wrongs our nations might have done. I give you leave to allow my daughter to stay longer._

_Maybe up to a year. My lady yearns to see Princess Hannah, but we understand that the need for a husband for our daughter is much more needful. Keep the posts in good supply._

_God bless your judgment,_

_Darrin of Diamond Coast_

_King of Bavar_

- - - - - - - - - -

**Review, bitte! I love hearing from my readers…**

**(Hint, hint)**


	4. Midnight Meeting

**Nixiesocean: Whoopiee! I'm back! Sorry for the _huge_ delay in updating. First, I had to write the chapter, _then_ life caught up and I suddenly had a lot of things I needed to get done (stupid science papers… boo hiss) and work (explains itself) and babysitting two adorable little boys (although they can be handful. 5 and 3. Terrible ages for boys, though I suppose they get worse as they get older).**

**So, I'm back with 1,900 words for you to digest! Yay for me!**

_**Responses:**_

**_Bingo5_: So, um see the other three chapters :-) for your response. I'm too lazy to type it out again…**

**_Piratess of Summer_: Thank you! And, of course they're the most famous last words. Why would I have them _both_ use that line and not get 'em together? Of course, they can't get together at ten! How fun would that be? Sheesh… no, I'm just setting up the plot:-) This is probably the longest set-up-the-plot time span I've ever done!**

**_Dark Ninja of Mount Hope_: Have you read _Terrier_ by Tamora Pierce? Although it's not letters, it's a diary. I could never write and entire book in journal entries!**

**_Rush of Waves_: Yes. It would.**

**Read, enjoy and _review_!**

_Chapter 4: Midnight Meeting_

"She isn't ignorant, Marcus, I see no reason why you should have such hatred for her! Hannah is a perfectly fine girl." Mercy told her brother that night. "What is your excuse? Is it because she's different? Not pretty enough? You like us fatter, plumper northern-bred girls?" Marcus never answered. Mercy knew she was talking _at_ him not _with_ him. Growling like any commoner, she added, "I think you like her and you're too scared to admit it."

_That_ got a response! "I will _never_ like some shallow-hearted southerner. _They_ can't appreciate the majestic mountains of northern Hessex. _They_ can't delight in the wonders of new-fallen snow! _They_ can't breathe in the fresh, sharp scent of our night and revel in it!"

Mercy shook her black head. "I wonder what Hannah must think of you, Marcus. You're nothing like you showed her today. You showed her a prince that hates his duty and would rather be elsewhere-"

"That _is_ me!"

"No interruptions!" Mercy reprimanded her elder brother. "You showed her that in meanest, cruelest, rudest way possible. I _know_ you, Mar', and you're _nothing_ like that! Don't deny it, brother, you're as mean-hearted as a wolf is a plant-eater."

Marcus laughed from the other side of their hole. "And you're as blunt as a rock. That'll get you _nowhere_ in diplomacy."

"If I'm a rock, you're-" A door opened on Marcus' side. Curious, Mercy put her ear to the hole.

_"Marcus? It's nearly the middle of night! Why are you up so late?"_ Queen Anna asked her son.

_"Mama!"_ Mercy heard her brother say. _"I couldn't sleep. The whole princess-thing has me shaken up."_

_"Poor Marcus,"_ Anna crooned. _"I hope you'll feel better in the morning – I'll let the maids know to let you sleep in later than normal."_

_"Thank you, Mama." _Marcus replied.

_"Mother."_ Anna said before closing the door.

- - - - - - - - - -

Hannah lay awake, the darkness closing around her like a blanket. _Why was he so rude?_ She wanted to know. _Just because I'm not some big-bosomed northerner doesn't mean I' m not pretty._

"Your Highness," Her maid called. " 'Tis nearly midnight. These northerners like to be up with the sun."

"Yes, Marie." Hannah said. "I'll get to sleep straight way." Her maid was a substitute for her aging nursemaid, Gyamia, who was too old to travel farther than between the royal residences in Bavar.

Sleep never came. Hannah wasn't a beauty of the court, like Mercy was to Hanor, but most boys her age didn't ignore her entirely – like this… this _barbarian_. She buried a fluffy pillow to her face. Her elder sisters had tried to get the youngest princess to flirt a bit, stretch her wings, but Hannah was unmotivated.

Why would she need to flirt? Her parents would probably arrange a marriage anyways. Hannah felt tears seep out her eyes. _I HATE IT HERE!_ She yelled internally. _It's cold, inhospitable and worse, there's an arrogant prince!_ She promised herself she would write to her father to ask him if she could leave sooner than planned.

Grinning to herself, she started thinking up how to play on the king of Bavar's pride. Tell him that His Most Arrogant Highness Prince Marcus Jonas of Hessex snubbed me?

That would only lead to political tension between Bavar and Hanor – something the princess surely _didn't_ want. That would mean she and Mercy wouldn't be able to send letters without them being read intimately. How could the princess leave Hanor, without offending the king and queen, go home without shame on her shoulders and still look like a plausible match for some men?

It was a dilemma for Princess Hannah. She decided that she needed some air.

- - - - - - - - - -

"Good night, Mercy." Her brother whispered. She didn't reply. Marcus shrugged and sunk back into the coverlets. Mercy must be angry, he decided. Could he be more civil to _the princess_ for his sister's sake? Could he put aside his irritation and solve this grown-up problem of his?

Yes. He could. It would prove to his parents he was old enough to go do _real_ hunting, not these fake release-a-captive-pigeon-for-Pine-and-Spots they insisted on now. If he were more civil with the foreigner, would it please his dear sister and his parents?

Marcus shook his head. His dislike was so unfounded. He only didn't like her because she kept him inside when his passion was so obviously the out-of-doors! Growling in annoyance with his weird thoughts, Marcus got out of bed and went out to his balcony. The air was crisp with the end-of-winter's chill. The moonlight glinted off the snow.

The prince of Hanor was reminded why he loved this land. The mountains provided scenery never seen anywhere else. The snow was soft and kind. The forests held secrets he intended to discover.

He smiled and shook his curly hair. His eyes caught something moving his left. Mercy was on his right, so that wasn't possible. He looked over. A small frame with a bear fur was on the balcony looking out across it, just as he had been doing. Suddenly, as if she knew he had been looking, Princess Hannah looked his way.

Embarrassed that he had seen her in a nightgown, he was happy it was dark and she couldn't see his face flush. Even she could, he would blame it on the cold air. He bowed and excused himself.

She had seemed thoughtful.

Was it possible that they could come to a truce?

- - - - - - - - - -

Morning came too quickly for Mercy. She was tired and wanted to sleep late, but she knew that breakfast would be served earlier than normal. The winter was beginning to break and the sunlight was returning to the world in longer days. Mercy stood and yawned. A maid dressed her and in no time, she was in the informal dining room. Her mother and father were there, already talking. Marcus and Hannah were absent. She took her usual seat and silently began eating.

Marcus entered a little while later. His cheeks were rosy – Mercy guessed he had been outside before he came like he did every morning. He sat down and was lost in thought. Hannah entered and with a curtsy and apology for being late, sat down next to the princess of Hanor.

"How did you sleep?" Mercy inquired.

Hannah smiled. "Very well, thank you. And you?"

Mercy's hand paused midway between picking up some egg and putting it into her mouth. "I was warm. I slept soundly. Marcus?"

If King Jonas and Queen Anna were curious as to the small talk that passed between the children, they made no comment. Marcus spoke, "It was… restful." His eyes unintentionally caught Hannah's and he turned away rapidly. "Father, Mother, may I be excused?"

"You may," Anna said quietly. Marcus left. In a commoner, it would've been described as 'dashing'. "Mercy, How about you show Princess Hannah how to go snow-walking?"

"Yes, Mama." Mercy murmured. She stood. "Hannah would you like to snow-walk? It is quite easy and you can wrap up in some furs."

Hannah had been well trained in royal etiquette. "I would, thank you." Hannah stood and followed Mercy out the door. After they were outside, Hannah asked, "May I write to my father to tell him I arrived safely? He will be quite worried, and I want to soothe his fears."

Mercy nodded. "I will tell the servants to get our things ready, when you are ready to go snow-walking, send a servant and I will meet you outside. I can catch up on some sewing while I wait." She entered her rooms and Hannah, hers. Mercy sat down, unable to lift the embroidery thread to finish her roses.

In fit of needlework genius, the small princess took up a spare linen, one that was very sheer and near invisible, and put it on her small wooden hoop. She took charcoal and lightly sketched her design on the parchment on her writing desk. When she looked down, she saw the smiling face of Hannah, complete with the learning gleam in her eye. Mercy hadn't been paying attention to what she drew, because when she drew her sleeve back, the face of her brother was there, looking very at home in the wild and she looked at him curiously. His curly hair framed his face like a lion's mane and Hannah had an odd shine to her skin, almost like if Mercy drew thread for her skin, it would have a green tinge. It also seemed… pebbly?

Mercy shook her head and blinked. They were there but the images she saw in their faces were gone. There was still her brother with the out-of-doors look and Hannah's learner's gleam. The urge to add green to Hannah's skin and the lion's mane of hair around Marcus was gone. A knock on her parlor door roused her from her stupor.

The princess of Hanor hid the sheet of parchment amongst her other drawings. The door opened. A servant entered. He bowed respectfully and spoke,

"Her Highness Princess Hannah of Bavar, daughter of the king of Bavar, the duke of Diamond Coast requests your presence in her parlor, Your Highness." He said.

_Do they always say that long title in Bavar?_ Mercy wondered. She smiled at the manservant. "Tell Her Highness I will meet her presently." He turned to leave, Mercy added, "Tell her _Mercy_ will meet her presently."

"Yes, Your Highness." He said, completely unperturbed by her request. Mercy followed the man out the door and into Hannah's parlor; he introduced her with a mere, "Her Highness, Mercy."

"Hello." Hannah greeted. "I hope Marc didn't fluster you." She lamented. "I need to remind him that in Hanor we may call each other my first names."

" 'Tis of no consequence." Mercy supplied. Switching to a far more informal speech, she added, "Ready to go snow-walking?"

Hannah grinned and replied, "As ready as one can be to freeze her toes off!"

Mercy laughed. "Don't worry, when I visit Bavar, you can show me all the warm things you do there!"

"Like sunbathing?" Hannah asked eagerly. At Mercy's confusion, she added, "Laying in the sun to get brown."

"You can lay in the sun without wearing a coat?" Mercy's eyes widened. "Don't you get cold? Do you get wind-burned? How can you get so brown?"

Hannah patted Mercy. "You'll have to visit me." She winked. "Who knows, maybe a brother of mine will catch you eye!"

Mercy's foot tapped. "I'm eight, Hannah. I'm not in the mood for marriage at this moment."

Hannah shrugged. "In Bavar some girls get wedded as young as fifteen. Luckily, I can declare my Intended on my twentieth birthday, since twenty years of life will give me 'enough experience to be a worthy bride'."

"In Hanor, commoners marry at twelve. Nobles at sixteen and royalty at twenty-one." Mercy supplied. "Come on, enough talk! Time to snow-walk! It's great fun!"

- - - - - - - - - -

**Review, please. I will do my best to update faster, but next week is Spring Break and I'm redoing my room. I'll try to update once before then. :-)**


	5. Can Princes Get Grounded?

**Nixiesocean: Hello! I'm back with a new chapter of _Rose Petals_! Forgive me for not updating over spring break; I had a lot on my plate over break. I was cleaning/redoing my room, so I had little time for the computer. If I did, it was to check up on which stories were updated and to review those that I was following.**

**Enough blabbering!**

_**Responses:**_

**_Dark Ninja of Mount Hope_: Yeah, yeah… :-) Some obvious foreshadowing there. :-D**

**_Bingo5_: My brother lives next to me. I always know when he's on the phone because his voice carries… :-P In any case, I thought it would be cool… And the thinking twice thing? Yeah, me too!**

**_Piratess of Summer_: How am I supposed to respond to that? Lol! Anywho, it's actually rather mature looking… It had beige walls and it's really organized… I really don't want "cute" walls, cuz I'd hate 'em and wish I'd never painted 'em that color…**

**Read, enjoy and reiview!**

_Chapter 5: Can Princes Get Grounded?_

Pine and Spots were excellent hunting dogs. Marcus took down every bird; the dogs were very well trained to scare them into the air. He gave them both a pat and grinned. A bark from Pine brought Marcus into reality and away from his dreams of wandering the woods unhindered, hunting game.

Spots also barked, though his was threatening. Macus turned. He saw his sister's form, accompanied by another, fur-wrapped form. His sister moved across the snow like an angel; she was born to it. The other, probably Princess Hannah, moved ungracefully, keeping her eyes on her feet and walking with uncertainty. Mercy turned and saw her brother. She turned back to the other person and they started to walk toward Marcus.

"Marcus!" Mercy called. "Look, Hannah's out on the snow. She's a natural!"

A muffled voice replied, "Are not. I am not graceful at all!"

Mercy beamed. "She learned quickly. What're you doing? Why is Pine acting so mean?" Rosy hues added dimension to the northern beauty's face as she smiled.

"That's Spots and it's because he doesn't know Her Highness." Marcus gently patted his hunting dog's head to reassure him. "How are you doing, Your Highness?"

"I am well." Hannah replied carefully. _Why is he being so polite?_ She wondered. "Mercy is a patient teacher. I fear I will never be so elegant in these… snowshoes as she is."

Mercy noted the change in Marcus' tone as he spoke to her and to Hannah. "Marcus, we'd better get going. I don't want Hannah to catch a cold out here."

Hannah curtsied as best she could in furs and snowshoes. "It was pleasant seeing you today, Your Highness, I hope to see you at court this evening."

"I will try to attend." Marcus lied. He truly intended to be out with his dogs. "Have a nice day, Mercy!" He called to the retreating backs.

- - - - - - - - - - -

"He never told me to have a nice day." Hannah told her friend. "He just said it to you. I saw that lie plain on his face."

"I know." Mercy replied. "Marcus hates court. He'd never agree, especially not for you, whom he so obviously doesn't get along with. I'm not sure why, though." Hannah flushed when Mercy so candidly spoke the obvious. "I don't mean to be rude, but-"

"I do not blame you when you speak the truth." Hannah said kindly. "You… just put it so bluntly."

This time, it was Mercy's turn to blush. "I'm sorry. Marcus says I speak frankly as well."

Hannah patted Mercy's shoulder as best she could. "It's all right, my friend. I don't mind."

Mercy laughed. "Right."

- - - - - - - - - - -

Marcus sighed as Mercy and Hannah left. She tried so hard to make this girl appeal to him. She had even convinced the southerner to come outside and snowwalk, something he surely would've never done.

"Pine," He said as his female hunting dog whimpered. "Quit that. You'll get your food soon enough." Spots soon added his cries for food and the prince, ever doting on his lovely dogs, conceded and allowed them to lead him inside. He noted a slight bulge in Pine's stomach and guessed a new litter was on its way.

How he would love to raise a litter of hunting dogs all on his own! They might be the perfect breed of Spots and Pine. They would be loyal and loving, strong, hardy and be able to sniff out any prey.

This thought brightened Marcus' day very greatly.

He even forgot about the slight twinge he had felt when he had seen Hannah out in the snow.

- - - - - - - - - - -

"Mercy, do you think Marcus hates me?" Hannah asked as they sewed by the fire.

"I don't rightly know," She responded. "He refuses to tell me…"

Hannah bit her lip. Her red-tinged brown hair glowed about her face. "He… oh, I don't know!" She yelled. "I'm so mad!" She threw the ring of wood with embroidery and linen across the room, breaking it on the stone wall, and jumped up from her seat and paced the room.

Mercy, who had never seen the docile princess yell, raised an eyebrow. "Why are you mad?" She went on sewing by feel, keeping her eyes on her royal friend.

Hannah looked back at the fair northerner. "Father sent me here to get a marriage proposal from your parents. It seems I've failed, yet I can't leave without bearing shame back to my father."

Mercy gasped. "That is why you came?" She quickly looked down to reassure herself that the tree she was sewing was still good. It was. She looked back up.

Hannah laughed. "I'm ten, Mercy, I need to have some sort of idea of who I'd like to marry sometime soon."

"You said-" Mercy started.

"I lied!" Hannah yelled. "I need him by eighteen and that's eight years. I want to marry a boy I _like_ so bearing children won't be duty but-" Hannah gasped, blushed, and covered her mouth all at the same time.

Mercy grinned broadly at the foreign princess. "You _want_ children? I think they will be a pain. _Besides_, I know Mother and Father have a man picked out for me, so I get all my freedom in now, while I am still single and they _think_ I don't know that they have a man picked out for me."

"And you do not care?" Hannah asked quietly, almost fearfully. Mercy noted that when the princess calmed down, she spoke properly.

Mercy shrugged. "I tend to like people easily. As long as he is not egotistical or rude, I believe I will like my man."

"You are different, little Mercy," Hannah sat back down, intrigued by this northerner. "Most girls would long for the romantic love that are in books, those that can read. Yet, you… you are fine with marrying a man you do not know?"

Mercy shrugged and looked at Hannah slyly. "Maybe my opinion will change with my age, but at this point, I care not." To avoid the looks from Hannah she looked down at her tree.

Hannah sighed and sat down with a plop. "I am leaving, Mercy, I cannot stand it here."

Mercy smiled kindly at the princess. "I guessed as much. You should leave with the morning: that is when the laziest guards are on duty." Mercy sighed. She pulled the linen out and sewed the edges as she spoke, "Will you keep in touch with me?"

Hannah's smile boarded as her friend spoke. "I will."

Mercy finished the small square of linen. "Take it with my blessing then." She flipped her hair back. "And years from now, when you are married to the man of your dreams, remember the northern princess you met so long ago."

Hannah's lip quivered as tears began to overflow. "You speak like a married woman!"

Mercy sighed. "I will never be that old!" She yelled as her young, eight-year-old self overcame her. "I will chase them all away so I can visit you any time! I will run into the woods with Marcus and find you again!" Mercy sobered. "But I want you to be happy, Hannah." She stood to leave.

"As long as you will say you dismissed me." Hannah told her. "You are allowed to do that."

"I will not lie, Hannah. I will say I allowed you to take leave." Mercy whispered as she left Hannah's room. That was the last she saw of the princess.

- - - - - - - - - - -

"THE PRINCESS HAS LEFT!" He heard someone yelling outside his rooms. "PRINCESS HANNAH OF BAVAR HAS LEFT!" It wasn't a happy voice. Groggily, Marcus recognized the voice as that of his mother. "LET ME IN YOU LAZY SON!" Sleepily, Marcus managed to open his locked door to a frenzied mother. He yawned at looked at her through sleep-deprived eyes. He wasn't quite sure why, but he hadn't had a good night's sleep.

"Morning, Mother." He told her.

"Don't you _'morning, mother'_ me!" She hissed. Brushing past him, she entered his parlor. "Why did not your manservant answer? Where is he?"

Marcus shrugged. "I gave him today off."

Queen Anna sent a glare his way. "Why did you scare her off like that? How'd you convince her to leave?"

"She's left?" Marcus repeated, never really hearing what she had woken him up with. "Her Highness is gone?"

Mercy's eyes bored holes into him. "Yes, Marcus, gone. Vanished. Not here. Need any more words? Her train left with her. They knew precisely when to leave, who to bribe and the back roads."

"I didn't, for sure. I've scarcely said a paragraph to her." Both royals looked toward Mercy's room.

"You think?" The queen asked. "Do you think _Mercy_ told her?"

Marcus shrugged again. "I don't know. Maybe, but Her Highness was Mercy's friend. Wouldn't she want her to stay?"

Anna stood straighter. "Friends don't let friends get caught up in these things. Mercy would've wanted her to stay, but understood. As I take it, you two are very close." The queen swept past her son for the second time. "You _will_ speak to her about it. And you _will_ tell me what she said." Eyeing her son, Anna added, "Or there will be no hunting for a week and a day." Marcus gulped. "And you'll stay inside the whole time… doing Arithmetic and learning Hanor's history – right from it's founding."

"Mother!" He groaned. "That's nearing nine hundred years!"

There was no response except the swishing of silk on stone.

- - - - - - - - - - -

**Review, please…**


	6. Punishment

**Nixiesocean: I'm back! yay! I have an update for you all. If it seems too rushed, tell me, but I'm eager to start on the older-people part.**

**This young-people stuff is getting stale, I think.**

_**Responses:**_

**_Piratess of Summer_: Anna… as in the mother? If you'd notice, and I had Hannah's bodyguard explain it, the first name of the mother/father is passed onto the daughter/son. Cool, huh?**

**_Ardelis Mercy_: I think it would be intersesting to have the daughter of a rather untamed land be untamed, while Bavar seems rather tame, and have that daughter be more unruly. Interesting flip of character, no?**

**Tschau!**

_Chapter 6: Punishment_

Flames dance and twirled. They spun like graceful dancers and curtsied to their bright partners. They cackled with laughter, entrancing the young princess of Hanor into the endless depths of their eyes, and their world of greedy wood consuming. She sighed and watched them prance and play in her fireplace.

A light knock aroused her. She stood and silently made her way to her parlor door. Normally, she would allow her maid to open the door and present the person, but today, Mercy had felt the need to be alone, and had allowed the maid a free day.

Mercy opened the door to her affectionate brother, Marcus. She smiled and allowed her elder sibling into her room. Externally, the princess didn't show any distress over Hannah's leaving Hanor. Internally, Mercy still fought a guilt battle, knowing that Hannah had escaped and left her palace, despite both sides' parent's wishes.

"Marcus." Mercy greeted cordially. "How are you today?" She realized her mistake in being so formal with her brother. Normally, they spoke in contracted sentences, like any commoner, without, of course, the vulgar slang used by them.

"I am fine." He replied, just as formally. His summer-sky-blue eyes bored into her green ones and she realized he knew about her help in Hannah's escape.

"Marcus!" The princess whispered. "I _had_ to! She was miserable!"

Marcus' eyes widened extremely. "I did not know, Mercy…" His sister blushed a deep red for blurting her secret. "I wanted to tell you that Mother will keep me inside if I did not get some sort of confirmation from you." It was always bad news when Marcus called Mama 'Mother'. It meant something terrible in store for either of them.

"Mama would ground you?" Mercy asked, using commoner's slang.

"_Keep me inside_," He corrected. Marcus knew Mercy had to break the habit of using the servants' speak. Soon, the servants might slip and let a few choice words out, with his darling sister so near. Words that, maybe, Mercy shouldn't ever know, as a princess. "And yes, she would. What can we tell her?"

Mercy crossed her arms, just under where her bosom would end… if Mercy had one. Marcus sighed, seeing that resigned look in Mercy's eyes. "Tell Mama that I will serve punishment. I do not dispute my guilt. I allowed Her Highness to leave, and I do not regret it." Mercy eyed her elder brother. "Do you?"

- - - - - - - - - -

_I cannot deny it._ He told himself. _I _am_ glad she is gone._ He saw Mercy's endless jade orbs. _Can I tell her the punishment was only if I _didn't_ get a confession? _He saw, suddenly, Hannah's dark, peering eyes; he saw her face, framed by a mass of red-tinged brown hair. His thoughts stopped suddenly. _Why do I think of this girl so often? I hate her! I despise her, with her ignorant southerner ways!_

Mercy was peering at him. "Marcus?" She asked quietly. "What is wrong?"

He realized he was staring in space. He blinked and looked back at her. "We will both stay inside for a week, then, Mercy. I will not let you get chastised by our parents all alone." He patted her back. "Let us go to Mother and tell her of our decision."

Mercy smiled up at her brother. "Let us go forth, then." She winked and they left her parlor.

- - - - - - - - - -

Hannah hung her head. "I understand, Father." She said quietly. King Darrin of Bavar, the duke of Diamond Coast's tanned hands lifted her thin chin. She wore her southern garb. Thin cottons dyed to match the brilliant color of the many-hued seas and wondrous flowers that dotted Bavar's landscape. His near-black eyes sought hers.

"Hannah, I've tried very hard to find you a fiancé. If you do not want one, merely say so. I cannot abide by secrets."

His youngest daughter met his eyes. "I do not wish a fiancé. My sisters' children will be children enough for me."

He smiled. "I will talk to my lady about this. You may be exempt from the law, being my most beloved daughter."

It was not secret among the servants, and royals, of Bavar. The duke of Diamond Coast had always favored his youngest daughter, above his three other daughters and his two sons. No one knew quite why, but he did. Hannah turned to leave and heard her father's amused mutter. She didn't quite know what he meant, but she knew her single-status was in trouble. Her father whispered,

"Assuming times do not change."

- - - - - - - - - -

"I am proud of you two for accepting punishment together." Queen Anna Lilly told her children. "For that, there will be none." Marcus smiled at his sister and was sincerely glad he had offered to take the penalty with his sister. Anna Lilly added, "Assuming, of course, you two don't try to escape lessons again…"

Both children knew enough to look guilty at this accusation. In truth, neither was. They loved the outdoors, and the forests of northern Hanor enchanted Marcus more than any possible girl.

- - - - - - - - - -

_My Dearest Friend Princess Hannah of Bavar,_

_How are you? Marcus and I were not punished. I dearly hope you were not either. How is Bavar? Is it so different from Hanor? Is there snow there? Moutains? Forests? I am eager to see your country. May I visit sometime? I do not mean to be pushy… but the thing you described with the laying in the sun… sunbathing was it? I should like to try it. Maybe Marcus would join me in visiting Bavar? Would you like just me to come?_

_Marcus is busy with raising his new puppies. His female hunting dog has bourn him a litter. Spots… I think is her name. Or is it Pine? I can never keep those dogs of his straight._

_Please respond quickly!_

_Early awaiting your reply,_

_Princess Mercy Anna_

- - - - - - - - - -

_My Royal Sister Princess Mercy of Hanor,_

_I am satisfied to be back in Bavar – back among my people. I should like to see you in Bavar, you would enjoy it; I am quite sure. Bavar is a nation of lakes, streams, clear skies and warm weather. It is slightly more humid than Hanor, but it is pretty. The lakes reflect many colors and dazzle even me. Bavar, though, is quite hilly. While Hanor is dotted with mountains and forests, Bavar is gently sloping, giving everything a lazy feel._

_While Hanor is rugged and tempers her people, Bavar encourages a depth of artistry. To me, Hanor seems far too untamed. Bavar is quite tame. Would you send me a picture of the mountain out the window of your parlor's window? I would love to share it with my less-than-worldly sisters. They do not believe my tales of large hills that scrape the horizon and send colors into the sky on nights._

_They also do not believe me about snow. I saw it with my own eyes. I only wish there was a way to transport snow to Bavar. It would shame them to see my tales proved true and I do not carry falsehoods!_

_If I have offended you, my dear friend, do not take it personally. I am merely a daughter of Bavar._

_In friendship,_

_Princess Hannah_

- - - - - - - - - -

_Princess Hannah,_

_Bavar sounds delightful! I should like to see it greatly. Would this midsummer be too quick for you? Maybe you could sunbathe with me and see me get windburnt! Is it true in Bavar you can sit in the sun without heavy layering? I cannot imagine it! It seems so… strange!_

_I have enclosed a portrait of Mont vei Frka'ohna ae Lynka. "Mont vei Frka'ohna ae Lynka" is Ancient Hanor; and I am told it means "Mountain of the Heaven Scraper" or "Mountain of It Who Touches the Sky". I do not know Ancient Hanor, although I think it would be fun to learn it._

_How are you? Maybe I could have portraits of lakes or rivers of Bavar? I would love to hang them in my parlor. It would give it an ez –_scratched out–_ exotic theme, I should think. Would you?_

_I have spoken to my father and mother about visiting Bavar, and they both have refused. I am far behind in my studies due to Marcus and my own escapes out of lessons. I truly hate staying inside, much like my brother._

_-Written later-_

_My mother, Queen Anna Lilly, is starting me on Ancient Hanor, since I begged so much. I might even stay inside the whole hour! Can you believe it Hannah? I am to learn our old language, although only the oldest men and women speak it now. I would love to learn it. It has such a harsh taste, much like the land that birthed it. I do not blame you for calling Hanor untamed. It is. That is the aluer _–scratched out– _allure of it. I am too excited to write much more._

_Your Northern Friend,_

_Mercy Anna_

- - - - - - - - - -

Slowly, however, the replies back and forth between the two princesses died off, as each had more things to do, Mercy was eagerly learning Ancient Hanor and Hannah went off in pursuit of more scholarly things than corresponding with Mercy. Still, around the Equinoxes and Solstices, the two princesses sent each other gifts, and letters. Marcus refused to ever send Hannah anything other than a short note saying, "I hope the rest of your year is pleasant."

The kings' correspondence, however flourished. King Darrin wrote to King Jonas, telling him how he had accepted the fact that Hannah may never marry. He hinted, however, that maybe, when the two were older, they may consent to be wed, since both would then understand the power that their union would bring to both nations.

In the sixth summer after the departure of Princess Hannah of Bavar, the letters between the princesses officially died. Hannah sent one last letter to Mercy, stating that she would be visiting a neighboring country, and that she would be unable to send any more letters to Mercy.

The princess of Hanor cried a lot that night, knowing that their friendship had been one of childhood and they had grown apart. Marcus sat there, wondering why Mercy had felt so deeply attached to Her Highness. He saw the letters, and while Mercy cried her heart into a pillow, he took them and slipped away to read the letters of six years.

He returned them the next day while Mercy was bathing (he was in the parlor, while she bathed in her bathroom, two rooms away – the bedroom was between them). Mercy had hardly noticed they were gone; she was so saddened. Finally, at the insistence of her father, she went to the stables to ride a horse. There, she found two things: one, a magnificent mare, two, the granddaughter of Pine and Spots, a newborn puppy and still a little weak. Marcus held the small puppy in the circle of his arms.

Mercy realized her foolishness at her tears and held the small puppy in her arms. The puppy was just old enough to be away from her mother. It was a blue-gray with a white sock on the left foot. The baby dog also had one big black spot over one ear.

Mercy affectionately called her new puppy, "Flora". Marcus smiled at her obvious reference to the forest and showed her the horse. She was just old enough to be ridden, three or four years. Mercy's eyes glowed as she took in the sleek running horse. The mare had a star on her forehead and a white forelock. Her tail was a magnificent brown color and she was a darker shade. She would be "Fauna".

Unknown to Mercy, Marcus and their father had effectively detracted her from the southerner princess and back into Hanor.


	7. Ten Years: Was it Truly That Long?

**Nixiesocean: So, here it is. My many apologies for not updating sooner! Life, like I states in _The Younger Twin_, caught up.**

_**Responses:**_

**_Piratess of Summer_: Just wait 'til they meet again! Also, I've had summer friendships like that, so that was homage to those types of relationships. Heck, I had a friend for six years, who, the year we went on to 6th grade dropped me for the "popular" kids – since I have no social life and am a _total_ bookworm.**

**_Bingo5_: Actually, that was misleading. It's ten. The six-year thing was 'cuz I wanted it to be sometime between four and seven, and six came to mind.**

**_Dark Ninja of Mount Hope_: Soon! It will! Actually, "soon" is a relative term… I'm not quite sure. It'll be sometime at the end of summer. : - ) Their summer, of course, maybe sooner if I feel like it. _Besides_… you have to give me time to think up who Mercy's gonna get! Sadly, right now I don't have a match for Mercy… : - ( I know. I'm such a loser.**

**Anyways, read!**

_Chapter 7: Ten Years; Was it Truly That Long?_

_Time flew by_, Mercy thought glumly. Only ten years past, she and Marcus had been high-spirited children. Not that they weren't high-spirited now. Marcus was nearly twenty-one. Mercy remembered vividly a southerner princess she had met those ten years ago. The self-absorbed princess had left, leaving an eight-year-old Mercy to cry about no friends, because maids and servants could hardly be princesses.

Mercy was, once again, drawing. She was drawing a picture of the mountain out her parlor window. The sun was setting on it, and threw radiant colors into the sky. A knock on her parlor door brought her attentions to the real world. Her maid opened the door and a runner gave her a small message.

"Your mother requests your presence for a dress fitting." He told her politely. He bowed and the eighteen-year-old princess dismissed him. Marcus' big plans for marriage were well under way. He had to be wed by the Hanor New Year – which was one month before the winter solstice, or he would be unable to inherit the throne, as was custom.

It was just past the Vernal Equinox. He had, officially, eight months until he was to be wed and he hadn't even a bride yet! Queen Anna was going crazy with worry and their father was hurriedly trying to get all the princesses to come to Hanor to see his son, and marry him.

Unfortunately, Marcus had some sort of idea of _when_ exactly the princesses would arrive and would sneak off into the forest.

Mercy knew, but it was a common law between them. Marcus could sneak into the forest when _they_ came, but he couldn't speak about Mercy's help in allowing Her Highness as well as her private lessons in dagger-fighting be brought to attention of the sibling's parents.

It worked well.

Very well.

- - - - - - - - -

_My Royal Cousin,_

_Our son is twenty-one and must be wed one month before the winter solstice. We were wondering if you could, possibly, send one of your daughters to meet our son, and possibly we could arrange a mutually beneficial marriage._

_With all my heart,_

_King Jonas Marcus of Hessex and Queen Anna Lilly of Grayington_

- - - - - - - - -

A sheaf of parchment was on Hannah's desk when she arrived in her parlor. She wanted to know why it was there – she had left her writing desk clean when she went to the library. The red-brunette sighed and picked up the folded paper.

The seal was that of her father.

_He must have sent this note,_ She mused as she broke the seal. _I wonder what he saw to say. He _rarely_ sends me letters._

She sat down on her chair to read the letter. Her eyes scanned the parchment, not comprehending what was written.

_How DARE HE!_ She yelled to herself. _He absolved me of that rule after_ THEN_! I refuse to be a pawn! REFUSE!_

Then the princess saw the attached paper. She gasped, barely recognizing the man on the paper, yet, she was totally enchanted by him.

The man had curly hair, and she knew from her memories it was like spun gold. His eyes, she knew, were a sapphire blue and they sparkled. He was well muscled and his body, she saw, had hardened over the years. His eyes still held that mischievous light and his smile was true.

This wasn't the boy she knew. _He's changed_. She realized.

The bottom on her stomach plummeted to the ground as she looked over him. He was handsome, that was for sure. His teeth were perfect, she saw. He was, if a man could be called such, beautiful.

She bit her lip to balance the sudden feelings she had for this barbaric northerner she knew from ten years past.

Would she go? Unsteadily, she stood, clutching the charcoal portrait of Prince Marcus in her hand. Would she go, as her father wished? Her feet led her to her father's study.

- - - - - - - - -

_Cousin,_

_One of my many daughters is currently on her way. We, my lady and I, hope you will enjoy her company. She is our last unmarried daughter._

_I hope the nuptial bells ring in chorus soon,_

_King Darrin of Diamond Coast_

- - - - - - - - -

Marcus knew when the princess had arrived. He had heard one was coming, his "last hope" for marriage before the nobles of Hanor were allowed to be selected. He didn't recognize the seal on the carriage door.

Someone tapped his shoulder.

He turned to see his mother tapping her foot.

He sighed, knowing he'd be forced to attend the meeting for the second time. The first was another northern princess from the neighboring country of Sckvana. He had fled from the hideous princess.

She left two days later.

He went into his rooms and changed out of his hunting garb and into royal clothing. Mercy spotted him.

"Marcus! Why aren't you gone? The princess is here! You should be-"

"In attendance." Queen Anna Lilly interrupted. "You cannot fathom how much this means to me, Marcus. You-"

"Have eight months before I am to be wed, whether it is for my own happiness or not. If I can't find a wife, I'll be wed to some woman of some far reaches and I'll be forced to sire a son with a woman I don't love. Got it, Mother." Anna Lilly, luckily, was a patient woman and didn't have her son whipped for the message. He knew it as well as she and Mercy gawked.

"Do not, dear," Anna told her daughter, "It is rather unbecoming for a princess." She turned on her son, "And do not contract, honey, it is improper."

"Yes, Mother," Marcus replied sullenly. "Any idea who the new meat – I mean princess – is?"

His mother glared. "I do not have any idea. Even if I did, I do not have permission to tell you, Marcus."

This time, it was Marcus who glared. "Come on, Mercy, we might as well go greet her."

Mercy followed behind her brother, and for an instant, the queen saw a girl of eight following her brother of ten. Anna Lilly sighed and wished she could go back to the times when marriage wasn't an issue and her children could be carefree.

Time passed, however, and not ever the queen of Hanor could change time.

She followed their path some time later.

- - - - - - - - -

Hannah's carriage pulled up to the drop-off point for carriages. The royal family was in attendance. They stood in order. King Jonas, Queen Anna, Prince Marcus and her old friend Princess Mercy.

How would Mercy react to her coming back? How would Marcus react? Surely the king and queen had told them!

The carriage halted and the door opened. Gracefully, the nearly twenty-one-year-old princess stooped to get out of the carriage. She saw Marcus' face. She saw Mercy's face. She saw Queen Anna's face.

Her stomach dropped again. She swayed. Marcus was so handsome now. The picture did him an injustice. He stood, but his mouth gaped wide. Mercy knew enough not to gape, but instead her eyes were wide in astonishment. Queen Anna's face was that of polite interest and King Jonas beamed proudly.

Marcus was the first to recover, "I'm sorry, Your Highness," He stepped forward to aid in her decent from the carriage stairs. Mustering every etiquette lesson she knew, Hannah managed to step down from the carriage and still stand.

Where Marcus' hand had touched, she felt on fire, her stomach plummeted and she had to focus intently on getting down in those dratted heels. There was an odd sparkle in his eyes, one that wasn't in that picture. He still held onto her hand, she felt like she couldn't handle it, when the fire nearly raced into her eyes, he let go. He remembered his lines, however, and spoke clearly to those in attendance.

"Welcome, Princess Hannah of Bavar, to Hanor."


	8. Kisses and Dinner

**Nixiesocean: Hi! I'm updating! Yay! … I'm so sad… I'm reading **_**Maximum Ride**_** by James Patterson and I **_**really**_** want book #3 to come out! So, I'm satisfying myself with rereading everything.**

**Anyone out there read **_**Maximum Ride**_

_**Responses:**_

_**Bingo7**_**: Why did you change your s/n? I'm so used to Bingo5 that Bingo7 is odd to me, lol. : ) Well, I guess ten years will dim memories a bit. But, you figure, she would still look slightly similar. Plus, a familiar face with the crest (which they didn't immediately recognize) would trigger memories.**

_**Piratess of Summer**_**: Romances **_**always**_** begin with hatred/annoyance or with immediate love, have you noticed that? (shrug). I'm just keeping with tradition. (wink)**

_**Dark Ninja of Mount Hope**_**: Well, in Mercy's mind Hannah abandoned her… Also, an eighteen-year-old going onto nineteen also being a princess would totally ruin any hopes of running headlong into Hannah's arms.**

_**FreakyLongHairedGirl**_**: Thanks!**

**Read, enjoy, review!**

_Chapter 8: Kisses and Dinner_

Marcus' hand was hot. Fire ranged all over his skin. Hannah was beautiful now. She wasn't some awkwardly shaped ten-year-old. She was _beautiful_. She was _graceful_.

A random thought popped into his head. _Will she marry me?_ Before he could go any further he stopped himself and spoke.

"Welcome, Princess Hannah of Bavar, to Hanor." His father missed the glare he sent that way.

"Thank you, Prince Marcus of Hanor," She replied kindly. Her endless eyes sparkled with interest and soon the company was dismissed.

_Those eyes…_ He thought suddenly. _They drew me in…_ Her eyes turned onto him. _Her face is beautiful._

Her arm slipped into his and they walked inside. He had never felt this way. He had never been so uncomfortable… so vulnerable…

Was this love?

If it was, he _certainly_ didn't like it, he decided.

"How was your trip?" He asked suddenly.

She smiled. Her lips were more full; they spread gracefully. "Very nice, thank you. I noticed the flowers were in bloom."

Marcus nodded. "They bloom early. I think they know the summer season is shorter this far north and decide to bloom quickly to put out seeds."

"I see the years have been good to you," She commented arbitrarily. "How have you been?"

"Very nice, thank you." He replied with a playful twinkle in his eyes. "You?"

"The years have been nice." Hannah looked at him. "How has Mercy been?"

Marcus breathed deeply. How could he tell her Mercy had been heartbroken four years ago? "She is well. She had a rough summer fours years ago, though."

Hannah guessed what he was getting at and didn't reply. "The picture your father sent did not do you justice," she blurted.

Marcus stopped walking and stared at her, trying to divine what she had meant.

The southerner blushed deeply at the outburst.

He tried to recover but found no words for what his heart was telling him. He blinked and didn't know what to say.

Nor did Hannah.

Oddly, there were no servants walking about, so it was the two royals who had wandered off. They were alone. In a hall. Staring at one another.

"I'm – I am…" Hannah trailed of, truly not knowing how to recover.

Hannah had never complimented a man so openly before, and Marcus definitely didn't expect the Hannah he knew to give such a compliment – even if it _was_ an accident.

Marcus breathed deeply and held out his arm again and they walked in silence for a bit. They were in front of her guest quarters. They were the same as the last time, ten years past.

Nervously, the prince bent his head. His lips came into contact with, not her cheek as he had aimed, but lips.

Hannah had moved her head. Her arms moved to hang around his neck. Before she could, Marcus broke the kiss and walked quickly away. If he were a commoner, it would be described as "sprinting".

Hannah felt her cheeks warm and she quickly entered her room and shut the door. She was in the guest room's parlor parlor.

A figure sat near her hearth. The princess walked over to the other person and saw the person's face.

Mercy.

- - - - - - - - -

What possessed him to kiss her? It wasn't his first kiss. The serving girls were rather free with them. He hadn't taken any to his bed, as some princes did. He had enough restraint to know what was good, and what was bad.

But the kiss… it was… different. Had anyone ever kissed Hannah?

He shivered beside the fire as he recalled her. He had aimed for her cheek. Had he gotten her lips?

_No_, he told himself, _she moved _her_ head to catch my lips!_ Was it plausible that Hannah had some sort of feelings for him too? He shook his head and went back to the paperwork his father demanded he help with now.

- - - - - - - - -

Mercy stood, her eyes flashing in anger. "How _could you_?" She demanded. "I thought you were my friend. I called you my friend. I sent you letters and I sent you gifts. We had _so much in common_!" Mercy wept aloud. "And you _dare_ come back! I would _never_ go back to my ex-friend's home after she rejected me!"

Hannah sighed, knowing this was the breaking point in the normally cool princess. "I'm sorry," Hannah whispered. "I didn't mean to make it sound like I _never_ could. I just wanted to warn you that I wouldn't be sending you many letters for a little bit." The fact that Hannah had contracted her words was lost on the anger-driven Mercy.

"You sure as hell made it sound like it!" Mercy yelled back. Hannah was shocked with Mercy's language. "You have some _nerve_!" Her green eyes sought Hannah's black ones. Mercy shook her head in disbelief. "And then you come to marry my brother?" Mercy laughed incredulously. "You have some nerve."

The southern princess tried to soothe Mercy. "I didn't mean for it sound like I never could send you letters _ever_ again! You can't imagine how depressed I was when I didn't get a reply from you!"

Mercy shook her head and squared her jaw. "I hate you." She turned on her heel and stomped out.

When had the parts switched? Hannah wondered. When had Marcus' dislike of her transferred to Mercy's normally benevolent side? When did Mercy begin to detest her?

The letter she never should have sent. Hannah realized. She knew it was a bad idea not to add a post-note to tell Mercy she could still correspond. Now Mercy hated her guts and Hannah was madly in love with the prince!

When _had_ the roles switched?

- - - - - - - - -

Mercy stormed out to the stables and had the stable hands saddle Fauna, her pony. She and her guard rode out into the pasture and Mercy settled in the afternoon sun. The ordeal with Hannah had taken a good part of the afternoon, so there was an hour or so before dinner was to begin.

"My lady," Her guard began.

"Not this time, Renold, I'm not in the mood." Mercy snapped. Renold was a typical northerner, light haired, fair-skinned and bright-eyed.

Mercy wasn't. She had black hair and jade eyes, like her mother. She also looked like a doll when she dressed up for Court. The color combination was a varied mix of the temperate climate and the southern climate.

"Yes, my lady." Renold murmured, taking watch over his rather irritated charge. He was her guard since the year after Princess Hannah had left, nine years ago.

Mercy started wondering about why she had been so angry with Hannah. They had clicked so easily as children. She had even taken it upon herself to get Hannah to see Marcus in his natural environment and had even written to Hannah a lot.

Why had Hannah sent that dratted letter? This all would have never happened and then all would be well. Except… wasn't Mercy happy her brother had a person to at least admire? Pine and Spots had died during the winter, when food was unusually lean, so this new person, a new trail of thoughts, might lead him out of his sadness.

Was it jealousy? Was she annoyed that Marcus had someone to love, and she went complacently along with her parents? Angry and confused at her thoughts, she mounted on Fauna and rode back, with Renold closely trailing her. They headed inside and Mercy began to dress for dinner.

- - - - - - - - -

Hannah had never felt so good. She was cold: it was true. She had spent more than ten minutes in a steaming bath. She had felt so relaxed, so happy. She idly brushed her hair while smiling into her vanity mirror. Marie would be in soon with a dress. Hannah was curled under her layer of polar bear fur and was quite warm.

Marie came in, eyes wide.

"Your- Your Highness…" She whispered.

Hannah smiled. "What is it, Marie?"

"You – Your – Her Majesty…" Hannah had never seen Marie so flustered. "Her Majesty has brought some jewelry she insists you wear."

Hannah blushed at the honor. "Take them with my hearty thanks." Hannah looked into her mirror and gasped.

Next to Marie stood Queen Anna Lilly of Greyington. She was alone, but held a single strand of silver necklace. Her other clenched hand probably had the matching earrings. Her kind eyes, Hannah noticed her distinct resemblance to Mercy, showed happiness.

"You are the first princess to sit in that chair since you came ten years past, Princess Hannah." She told her. "Since then, my son has fled whenever a princess came into the city." She held the necklace out. Hannah could see the thin metal had a locket on it. "This was to be worn by the first princess to sit in that seat."

_What?_ Hannah asked herself. _Is this some bizarre northern ritual? Am I engaged if I wear it?_

"T- Thank you, Your Majesty."

Queen Anna leaned down and whispered into Hannah's ear, "You may call me 'Anna', I much prefer it." Hannah nodded. Anna's other fist held matching silver earring studs with thin strips of metal dangling down.

"Thank you, Anna."

"You're quite welcome, Princess." Anna smiled, her ruby lips spreading. "I shall see you at dinner, then?"

"Yes," Hannah replied happily. "This is truly a wonderful gift."

"Anything for the woman that enchanted my son's heart." She told the princess cryptically.

_She knew?_ Hannah asked herself. _What else does she know?_ Hannah sighed and gasped as Marie brought out the dress.

- - - - - - - - -

Marcus was rather unhappily awaiting Hannah's arrival. Mercy fidgeted and he got the impression she'd rather be elsewhere.

_How ironic._ He told himself. _That was I the last time she was here._

Marcus had grown in those ten years away from Hannah. She had as well. Her straight body had filled out and, while Mercy grew normally, Hannah had grown considerably.

Physical wasn't the only area Hannah had grown into. She had matured mentally and was well aware of what would happen if she left now; at least Marcus thought so.

He was deeply in thought when Her Highness arrived. Mercy jabbed him from his left and he looked up. Had he not been taught to conceal his emotions, he would have gasped.

Hannah was dressed in midnight blue dress, studded with small diamonds, to act as stars. She was shapely and the neckline was modest, though it was obvious it could be lower. Her train was of a paler blue, and followed her less than a foot behind, but it was beautiful nonetheless.

Hannah sat in the only empty seat, the one on Marcus' right. She gracefully in the seat and the two royals found their hands gently brushing the other's hand.

Marcus had never felt so unsure of himself. Gently, as if she was unsure, Hannah's hand slid into his and he found himself softly holding her hand under the table.

Was this love?

- - - - - - - - -

Hannah knew she was pretty in the dress her father had sent. He had it put into her trunk without her knowledge, to be worn when she arrived. She hated and loved the man. It was of rather simple make, but the small diamonds made it expensive and the train of sheer fabric added a touch of class.

She knew she was the simplest dressed there.

It made Marcus' reaction all the sweeter.

He had stared, despite his attempts to hide his emotions; she had seen his eyes flick up and down the dress, pausing to take in her lightly dusted face. At least his eyes hadn't lingered on her hips, she told herself.

Her happiness was complete when he didn't shy away from her hand.

- - - - - - - - -

**Review please!**


	9. All Ye Fair Ladies

**Nixiesocean: I would've updated sooner, but a persuasive essay, work, algebra homework, world studies homework, science homework and german studying got in my way…**

**Life. What can I say?**

**I have to mention this: The song **_**All Ye Fair Ladies**_** is my own creation, and by that right, I lay claim to it. Feel free to dissect it. However, I enjoy free-verse poetry, and if it seems like it rhymes, that is completely unintentional.**

**I hope you like it. It's more like a ballad, though shorter. :-) You'll understand what I'm talking about around mid-story.**

_**Responses:**_

**To the author who formerly was named **_**Bingo5**_**: Wow! You're the youngest of seven? Man! I'm only the youngest of four! Aw, no Mercy isn't the antagonist. She's just sad and, don't worry, she doesn't stay angry with Hannah for long.**

_**AphroditeIncarnate**_**: I love your sn! Do you pronounce it "Af-row-dite" or "Af-row-di-te"? Anywho, Maybe you'll like Hannah more later, she's still kind of underdeveloped. I know she follows the "smart princess" stereotype, but, then again, all I'm doing is expanding upon a prewritten story.**

_**Piratess of Summer**_**: Things change. I know I have. Man, when I was ten years younger than I am now, I was a crying baby. I cried over **_**everything**_**. I cried when my brother squished an ant. Sad, huh?**

_**Sea's of Bitterness**_**: Aww, thanks!**

**I should probably put in a disclaimer.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the plot. I own the characters, the names of everything and the world. I thank the Brothers Grimm for this work of art, although there is debate as to how much they changed.**

**The REAL disclaimer: I do not own the plot, though I wish I did.**

**Onto the story!**

_Chapter 9: All Ye Fair Ladies_

Mercy closed her eyes and wished for dinner to be done. She had seen her brother clasp Hannah's hand, and was rather irritated. It was irrational, she should be happy her near-unconquerable brother had found a love, apart for the forests of Hanor! But, anyone but that selfish girl!

"Herald!" King Jonas called to the man near the door. "Bring in the harpist!" He snapped to attention, bowed, and ran out the door. A man slowly entered, taking his time and paced himself evenly.

"Get on with it!" Someone shouted. "We've got things to do."

King Jonas' eyes snapped together and searched for the speaker. "Lord Peter Gideon," King Jonas addressed the nobleman. The rowdy young noble turned on his king with fearful eyes. "You have things to do? Other than attend my court?" Lord Peter was visibly sweating. His blonde greased hair was beginning to sparkle unnaturally. King Jonas' eyes softened in kindness. "Perhaps you and your lady would like to attend those problems _at home_."

A young lady, of maybe eighteen years, stood up to stand next to Lord Peter. _Probably his wife_, Mercy thought, since Lord Peter had only just gained his title after Lord Gideon Adam died last midwinter and non-titled nobles were rarely at court.

The young lady, most likely Lady Riana Tami, held onto her lord's sleeve, whispering urgently in his ear. She was shapely, her brown hair was curled in the current style and large blue eyes made for sapphires in her face. Lord Peter Gideon and Lady Riana Tami bowed and curtsied, knowing a dismissal.

"Your father can do that?" Mercy heard Hannah ask her brother.

"Yes," Marcus told her. "I hope we get the harpist soon, he's good."

Hannah nodded. She loved the harpist at home, and it would be a welcome comfort. At least she had left just after the colder seasons at home, to be here, in the north, during their "summer".

The man dressed in blue wool and black silk finally stood near enough to be heard. He cleared his throat. His hair was once black, but was showing the grey of age. He still stood perfectly erect, though. He was tanner than the gathered people of the northern region.

He bowed to the royal family. Then, he spotted Hannah, seated next to Marcus.

"My lady princess," He murmured to her. The gathered courtiers eyed her suspiciously. What he did next shocked her. "How fare you this far north?" He asked in the native tongue of Bavar.

She grinned broadly. "I am fine, thank you." She smiled and turned to Marcus, who was rather confused – along with most of the nobles – to explain. "He asked me how I was."

As if that had broken some sort of ice, the harpist sat down and began to strum a tune.

_All ye fair ladies,_

_Listen well this tune._

_And, king,_

_Let me spin my tale,_

_Though too forward_

_You may find it._

_Far from this frozen world,_

_A land hot did appear and_

_In it lived a princess,_

_Her name was Hannah,_

_And she was the king's beloved._

_In a twist of fate,_

_Did Hannah leave her land,_

_To visit a frozen world,_

_Far from her cherished own._

_All ye fair ladies,_

_Listen well this tune._

_Many miles upon miles,_

_Did the beauty travel._

_Unto a frozen world,_

_So unlike her own._

_Into the land did she travel,_

_Into the cold did she wade._

_Into the ice did she journey._

_To uphold her father's wish._

_All ye fair ladies,_

_Listen well this tune._

_Hannah was a smart one,_

_And cunning princess, too._

_But even intellect,_

_Did not sway the prince's charm._

By now, Hannah was blushing deeply and Mercy was stunned.

_As wild as the tundra,_

_In which he did reside,_

_The prince awaited_

_His lady oh-so fair._

_None could tame him,_

_None but the cunning Hannah._

_So,_

_In a twist of fate,_

_Did Hannah travel from,_

_Her land so hot._

_To follow her father's wish,_

_And find a prince so gen'rous._

_All ye fair ladies,_

_Listen well this tune._

_To find your man so fine,_

_At your journey's end._

The Harper sighed and set down his harp. The women clapped and some men smiled, obviously more aware of their more earthly attributes.

Hannah was bright red and Marcus smiled at her. The Harper refused to meet her eyes.

"Herald!" The king's voice boomed across the hall. The herald, another elderly man, looked at the king. The Harper shook – he had taken a risk in improvising. The old man turned and knelt before his king, hoping it wasn't a death sentence the king was ordering. "Never have I heard such a wonderful tale." He smiled at the Harper. "After this night, I require that Vincent write down his tune and sing it more often."

The herald nodded, knowing that to debate was to lose his job, or worse: his life.

Hannah glanced at the king, and saw him nod at her to stand and speak.

"Although the song was…" She grinned. "Unexpected, but, I enjoyed it immensely."

_Of course you did,_ Mercy thought glumly. _You're the heroine in it._

"Could you sing a folk song of Bavar, since you seem so fluent in the language?" Hannah glanced back at the King Jonas, he nodded again.

"It would be my pleasure, Your Highness." The lanky man replied.

Hannah smiled and sat back down. She whispered to Marcus, "Now you will get to listen to Bavarn music!" _Where have I heard the name Vincent with a Harper before?_

Vincent stood and bowed to the gathered nobles, then turned to ask the herald, "Have you a violin?"

- - - - - - - - - -

Mercy seethed. After the dinner, all the nobles crowded Hannah to talk about Bavar and her "hot" land. Mercy left after the party was dismissed. She went to her drawing room. She opened the drawer in her desk and found a stack of letters, tied with a purple ribbon and with addressed with perfect precision.

Her stomach dropped. She hadn't read these in… years! Slowly, with shaking hands, she opened the first letter.

_Dear Hannah._ She stopped. Could she read them in peace? Without anger and keep from throwing them into the fire.

Yes. She would. She remembered being Hannah's friend, and had even enjoyed it. She had loved having a friend. Why did she dislike Hannah so much now?

She began reading, from the very first letters; she was glad now that Mother had always insisted on making Mercy copy each of her letters.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Marcus and Hannah walked, arms entwined, to her guest rooms.

"You were very red back there," He whispered.

"You were too." She replied. They walked in silence for a bit. "Did you pay him? Vincent?"

"To sing that song?" Marcus asked. His blue eyes almost radiated their mischievousness. He grinned, displaying a full set of white teeth. "Of course, although the ending was different than when I first heard it."

Hannah laughed. "I _knew_ it!" Their eyes met and Marcus slowly leaned in for a kiss.

And was stopped short.

"Your Highness," An imperious voice said. "Her Highness, Princess Mercy Anna, requests you in her study."

Hannah smiled at Marcus and nodded to the courier. She quickly kissed Marcus' cheek and whispered, "I will see you tomorrow, I expect."

"Aye, fair lady." Marcus replied. "And if my sister has unkind words, tell me and I shall speak with her." He left.

Hannah followed the message-runner, wondering why Mercy was calling on her.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Mercy was seated. Hannah came in, her brown hair with light red highlights sparkled in the candlelight. She smiled at the younger girl. A chair was open and Hannah took a seat. It faced Mercy.

"Yes, Your Highness?" Hannah asked. She had gathered enough from Mercy's current attitude to warrant the title, rather than just first-name.

Mercy's green eyes were sprinkled with unshed tears. "Where did it go?" She asked. "When did our friendship end?"

By now, Hannah was completely confused. "What?" Hannah asked rather ungracefully.

Mercy pointed to a stack of letters near her. "Why did it end?"

Hannah sighed. "I am not sure." The southerner's black eyes met the northerner's. "Remember the drawing you sent me of your mountain? I still have it up on my wall, framed."

Mercy beamed. "I am _so_ sorry." She whispered. "I – I guess I thought your letter was a rejection."

"But it was not." Hannah objected. She was happy Mercy was speaking to her on not-angry terms. "Do you not care about who you marry still?"

"Yes." Mercy said softly. "Understand, though, that I am happy for Marcus. No princess has managed to be on his good side this long." Mercy's jade eyes dropped to the floor. "Can you forgive my actions?" Mercy stood and held out her hand to the dark princess.

Hannah stood and took her hand. "Can we restart, then?"

With a squeal of happiness, Mercy threw her arms around Hannah and repeated, "Hannah!" Over and over again.

- - - - - - - - - -

**Like it?**

**Review! Tell me what your thoughts are!**


	10. A Letter to the King

**Nixiesocean: Hey! I'm back! And thanks for all the reviews! I enjoyed reading each and every one! (I'm on something, I'm just so happy!) This story has surpassed one of my other bigger stories, **_**The Fatal Mistake**_** in reviews! Thank you all!**

_**Responses:**_

_**AphroditeIncarnate**_**: I was hoping so. I liked the whole throwing-herself-into-Hannah's-arms things, kind of the thing two friends would do if they hadn't seen each other for ten years – royalty or no. I was just wondering how you pronounced it, because I've heard both. BTW: It's 'schon' b/c 'schön' is beautiful.**

_**Dark Ninja of Mount Hope**_**: Of course you do!**

_**Piratess of Summer**_**: My worries or the musician's? In any case, I loved writing, however unconventional it was. I like Vincent too – don't worry, he'll be more of a character later.**

**Read and review!**

_Chapter 10: A Letter to the King_

"Excited?" Hannah asked when Mercy had relented.

Mercy shrugged. "I was reenacting my response to your appearance." They laughed. When a stumbling sound caused Mercy to yank open the parlor door, an unbalanced Marcus fell into the room.

He sheepishly grinned. "Can I join the party?

- - - - - - - - - -

_Royal Cousin,_

_Marcus and Hannah are seen constantly in attendance to one another. Mercy has been spotted in and out, but the two are continually together._

_When would be the best time for you and your lady to attend a wedding in Hanor? At this rate, we may not have to wait out the summer for their lasting attachment._

- - - - - - - - - -

Mercy sighed and looked out the window. She was still studying Ancient Hanor. Laughter wafted up from the courtyard and she spotted two bodies, closely touching, talking in the gardens. They had two guards trailing them.

_Marcus and Hannah_, Mercy sighed again. _With Finny and Thomas_.

If only _she_ had – No. She stopped her thoughts. Long ago, Mercy had promised to marry whomever her parents wished. They would never marry her off to some old man with one wife in the ground and one on the way; they were too kind.

If only _she_ could – NO! She shook her head and tried to concentrate on the little-used language. If she could drown herself in the harsher language, maybe she would forget her petty thoughts.

If only – _SHUT UP!_ She told herself and stood from her desk. She stormed out her study in a worse mood than ever. Stalking like an angry cat, she marched to the stables and had Fauna saddled; and she rode away, dimly hearing Renold following her.

- - - - - - - - - -

_Mercy is often alone, although and her and Hannah have reconciled from an argument from long past. In the short month you have given Hannah, our court has been alight with new fervor; much unheard of since the years I first took the throne._

- - - - - - - - - -

"What is _sunbathing_?" One pale northern lady pestered. "Can you _truly_ lay in the sun without being burnt by cold winds?"

Hannah smiled. "Of course." She turned to another northerner, this one a lord. "Yes, you _can_ sail on an ocean completely devoid of ice." Marcus grinned and held her hand, like a true prince, he didn't object. "No, I was born with this skin color, although I could be darker if I sunbathed more."

- - - - - - - - - -

_My lady and I are happy to mention the outstanding results of this meeting. Marcus and Hannah get along nicely, intimately. They do our respective countries the honor of giving us something to be joyful about. Soon, the Days of Light will come, and Hannah will be here, to witness the twenty days of pure light._

_It is magical, and I hope she will stay after it._

_Yours in Royalty,_

_King Jonas_

- - - - - - - - - -

Renold followed his charge silently. Mercy was prone these days to run off into the fields or other wild places and speak to herself, write, complain or vent her anger.

This time was the last on list of things Mercy did in this peaceful brook side.

Mercy allowed her horse, Fauna – given to her by Marcus four years ago – to drink from the brook while she screamed and yelled. Renold never spoke.

"Why can't _I_ fall in love? Am _I_ so undesirable? Why do the men look at me like a nice trophy? Why does Marcus get Hannah and I get no one? Why?" Her tirade ended. She fell to the ground sobbing. Her parlor dress was grimy from the horse-riding and muddy from the water. Renold watched from afar, detached.

Mercy's tear-spotted face turned up to heaven. "God send me someone." She whispered. "Someone nice, who's like me and will care for me," She breathed deeply to calm herself. "Send me someone like Marcus."

- - - - - - - - -

Thomas sighed and gave Hannah another arrow. "Here, Your Highness."

The stubborn princess was insistent on learning the northern-style bow. She had missed eight out of ten, and the more recent two were only because Marcus had held the bow steady. She hadn't even come close to the bull's eye in the center of the target.

"It _is not _fair." She complained aloud to Marcus. "You can aim a Southern bow with no problems, but me? I am stuck with shaking arms and poor aim."

Marcus shrugged good-heartedly. "My father ensured I could change weapons – even foreign ones – rapidly."

"I wish mine had been so obliging." Hannah muttered.

Thomas wisely kept silent.

"Hannah, I think we should go in, you are starting to tremble." Marcs whispered after gently kissing her cheek.

Hannah rolled her eyes but allowed Thomas to take the hard-to-pull Northern bow away. She looked after it with disgust. "I am so weak." She pronounced.

"But you are far stronger mentally, sweet." Marcus pointed out. "You're so much better at Arithmetic or learning new languages than I'll _ever_ be."

"You are such a sweet talker, Marcus." Hannah told him as Thomas and Finny followed them out of the archery yard.

- - - - - - - - -

Thunder rolled across the plains and cracked in delight. It hadn't been _here_ in a while…

Mercy was soon drenched in rain. Surprisingly, it did nothing to wash away the ache in her heart. _Is this just girly hormones?_ She wondered. _Is this natural?_

Renold stood out of the rain, ready to cover up his charge when she decided enough was enough.

But she never did.

It felt like hours to the guard, who normally was patient enough to wait out a blizzard in one place, if need be. He sighed, took his waterproof cloak and wrapped it around the drenched princess.

He knew well enough the dangers of staying out in the rain and _cold_ rain at that.

"Come on, Your Highness," He murmured gently. Mercy stood numbly and walked with Renold. "We need to go back." The princess didn't respond. Her hair was drenched and would take hours to dry; her eyes were red and puffy; and she was soaked to the bone and shivering. She went along mutely, ignoring Renold.

He wasn't used to it, but kept her steady on his horse while leading Fauna and his own horse, Winter's Chill. She never spoke a word, the whole way back.

- - - - - - - - -

**So we see that Mercy actually – however subconsciously – does indeed care about who she marries. She's a real girl!**

**Have any of you girls with brothers ever wished – sometimes – that you knew a guy that was like your brother? I have on occasion. No, Mercy doesn't have feelings – aside from brother-sister kind – for Marcus; she just likes his character.**

**I hate incest.**

**Tschau:**

**Nixie**


	11. Meeting the Princess

**A/N: Hey! I found my drive! Isn't it awesome?**

**You can't imagine how happy I am at the number of reviews!**

**Onto the **_**responses:**_

_**Bingo7**_**: Riiight! Cool, calm and collected. What planet are **_**you**_** from? lol! Anyways, that's the case with me. I like the qualities of my older brother (protective being one of them – some girls would find it annoying, but it only proves that he really does care for me, despite his teasing me and visa versa.)**

_**FaylinnNorse**_**: Yeah. My bro's popular with the girls, lol! At one point he was giving "Christmas hugs" in October. And, yeah, Marcus is going lovey-dovey! Hahaha! Great description.**

_**Dark Ninja of Mount Hope**_**: (grin) I dunno. I'm debating between Renold and Sir Hasn't-yet-appeared-but-will-eventually.**

_**Simplegrl007**_**: I get teased as well. My brother decided that if he could see my clavical, my shirt was too low! Haha! It was great when I went out and bought a spaghetti-strap shirt with a slightly-lower-than-normal cut and he was like "you let her out in **_**that**_** thing?" – I would like to point out that I had another spaghetti strap cami under it: ) – So far I haven't found many guys in my school worth dating (too immature, too pervert-ish, too dumb, et cetera). (sigh). I'll just wait I guess. I understand about the touchy thing also.**

_**Piratess of Summer**_**: Now I'm relieved. I guess a lot of girls can relate to liking their brother's qualities.**

_**AphroditeIncarnate**_**: Aww… you hate your brother? That's so sad. I can understand, though. My friend's little brother is the devil incarnate, no joke. But brother's older than me, and likes to keep the guys away (not there **_**are**_** any), so maybe that's it? I threw that quote in at the last moment, lol! I was trying to think of things northerner-ish that Hannah would be able to contradict and have them be amazed. You're welcome (bitte schon! I realized it's schon, not schön.) "ich möchte Deutsch zu lernen, aber daß ist doch nicht moglich! Es ist sehr schwer." – can you tell me in English what you were trying to say? From what I understand, you're saying you want to learn German, and then I get stuck. (sigh). Also, you only need "Ich möchte Deutsch lernen" because lernen means, "to learn".**

**Long enough answers? Sheesh! My fingers ache and I still have **_**The Younger Twin**_** to update!**

_Chapter 11: Meeting the Princess_

"Thanks," Mercy mumbled as she got off Renold's horse. He nodded and helped her stable Fauna. Their eyes met for a moment as the princess said, "Listen, don't tell anyone what I said earlier. Please."

Renold's eyes dropped, as he remembered his place as her guard, not confident. It was strange enough seeing the calm princess loose her cool and explode like that, but hearing her beg him not to speak… it was all too much; and her contraction didn't get past the guard either.

"Yes, Your Highness." He whispered.

Her hand touched his shoulder, "_Please_."

"I will not." He told her truthfully. "Your Highness."

Her eyes were hurt, as he had refused to drop formalities, but he was a commoner, and he knew his place.

- - - - - - - - - -

"And this little beauty is…?" Hannah asked.

"Fauna: Mercy's horse." Marcus told her. He noticed the sweat on Fauna and guess Mercy had taken a ride. "I gave Fauna to her four years ago."

They passed Fauna and onto a near-white horse, dappled with little grey and brown spots. "Winter's Chill, Mercy's guard's horse, Renold." He also noticed the heavier sweat on Winter's Chill.

"I see." Hannah brushed by Renold's horse. "Do you gift all royal guards with horses?"

"Yes." Marcus held the hand that wasn't touching or petting horses. "We do, it is a kind of tradition, you might say."

Hannah turned around to face him, "You, me, hunting tomorrow?" She asked quietly. "I would enjoy it greatly."

Marcus' willpower melted. "Sure, Finny and Thomas will have to come though."

Hannah sighed, "Such is the life of royals." She smiled and they continued to pet and view horses.

After a while, they headed inside to get changed for dinner. Marcus dropped Hannah off, and on the way to his own room, passed Mercy's – Renold was getting lunch. Someone was crying. Lightly, as to not disturb her, he opened her parlor door and spied Mercy by the hearth, weeping.

Her face lifted, "Go away. I'm fine."

"You're not fine," He told his sister. "If you were, you wouldn't be crying."

Sighing, he went over and gently brushed her black hair away from her face. Her green eyes were sparkling with tears. "Marcus…"

He smiled. "I'm not going away, Mercy, until you tell me why you're crying loud enough to be heard outside."

Her eyes widened and she stifled another sob. "Outside…"

"Yes."

She shook a little bit and stood. "Nothing, I'm fine."

"You're not fine." Marcus continued. "Did Renold say something to you? I'll talk with him for you. Tell me: what's wrong?"

She shoved him away half-heartedly. Her eyes met his in a furious glare. "What'll I do when you're wed? Where will I be? I'll be the trophy of some noble, nothing more than an heir-producing _thing_! I have _no rights_. I live a good life here. _I don't want to leave_!"

Marcus gathered her in his arms and allowed her to sob into his shoulder. "You don't have to leave, Mercy, I won't let you. You're my sister, and no man will take you as a trophy." When he said 'trophy', she sobbed a little more. "Now, you're acting ridiculous, Mercy, I won't let anyone wed you without truly having some sort of love for you, understood?"

He heard an, "mmhmm." And he released her. Her eyes were red as she spoke, "How bad do I look?"

He smiled and touched her shoulder, "I'll have Renold bring you dinner. I'll say you're sick."

"You're too good, Marcus," She whispered as he left.

- - - - - - - - - -

"Highness?" Renold asked while holding a plate of still-warm food.

The door opened and Renold entered with her food. He set it on the parlor and began to leave, when Princess Mercy spoke quietly, "I never thanked you for what you did earlier," She told him.

Breathing deeply, the guard spoke, "You do not need to, Highness."

"But I do," She persisted. "You did not have to help me."

He paused at the door, "It is my duty," He looked over his shoulder and left. He shut the door and waited for screaming, but it didn't come.

He smiled and sat outside her door. He was fiddling with a carving when someone approached. Prince Marcus was there. He stood and bowed.

"Is she in there?" The prince asked.

"Yes, Your Highness." The guard replied. He bowed again as the king-to-be entered and sat back down, thinking very hard about how much Prince Marcus had changed, and how he had gotten this position, something he remembered vividly.

- - - - - - - - - - -

He was hitting a dummy, practicing fighting dances. His arms ached and burned with the effort of sustaining a certain speed – he'd wanted to impress his drill instructor and _them_. A boy of ten or so marched over, unafraid of the other men that were practicing at rapid speeds. They all stopped and watched as he passed.

Renold was among them. When the boy stopped in front of him, he kneeled; after all, the boy was Prince Marcus Jonas of Hessex, heir to the throne. Renold bowed his head and watched Marcus' finely crafted boots.

"Are you one Renold Smithson?" He asked with authority. Even if he could lie, he wouldn't have.

"Yes, Your Highness," Manners and station were drilled into them on the first day of training, along with the faces of the royal family.

Marcus' feet didn't move an inch. "How old are you, Smithson?"

"Fifteen on the first day of the Days of Light, Your Highness." Renold replied automatically.

"Excellent." Marcus said. "Come with me." The prince turned and left.

Renold glanced back to his drill instructor, who was watching with amazement. He gave Renold a look that said, _"Go on!"_

The young guard stood. "Yes, Your Highness," and he quickly followed the prince of Hanor. The prince didn't look back at the commoner.

Prince Marcus, in fact, didn't speak until they had arrived at a gilded door that the guard could've taken for any other. "I am officially assigning you to my sister." He said with a straight face. "You will be her personal bodyguard."

_But I'm barely a teenager!_ He wanted to say. _How can I protect the _princess_? I can barely keep up with the drills! _ But he didn't, he only said, "Yes, Your Highness." like he'd been taught.

"Perfect." His prince replied cheerfully. "She is in a sort of mood right now, since Her Highness Princess Hannah has left." He shrugged as if he didn't understand why. "I want you to meet her, though." He knocked twice, and then rapped his knuckles. _Probably a secret code_, Renold told himself.

Prince Marcus opened the door. Princess Mercy was standing, her green eyes slightly dimmed by saltwater tears. Marcus sighed. "Mercy. Do not think this is your fault."

Mercy looked directly at the lanky teen known as Renold. "Who is this?"

"Your bodyguard." Marcus replied. "He is fifteen and do not try to escape him. He is capable of catching an eight-year-old."

Renold decided he probably was able to catch Princess Mercy if she decided to run. "Hello, Your Highness. I am Renold Smithson."

Mercy smiled delicately, all princess and innocence. From the rumors, however, Renold knew she was quite different on the inside.

"I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Renold Smithson."

- - - - - - - - - - -

**I'm so sorry about the whole flash drive incident. I'll make it up to you, I swear!**


	12. Thoughts

**A/N: Here's a little romance for you.**

_**Responses:**_

_**Nyght Musique**_**: I'm happy I found my flash drive too, lol! Over one-hundred-fifty fanfictions (whether they're posted or not) are on that thing, not to mention school work! Sheesh… and want to know something pathetic? I had on me during the two-week interval that it was missing. It was in my cash-purse thing.**

**Simply pathetic.**

_**Bingo7**_**: Oh, yes! I already have an evil plot bunny stealing my strawberries (see bottom) … er thoughts! I think it's a cute couple. I suppose Renold is like her shadow, in many cases. He follows her everywhere and takes her rebukes (see later in the chapter) et cetera.**

**He's a little like my awesome older brother.**

**See, that's the thing. My brother can be a pain in the arse, but, since I entered high school, he's been nice to me and (some would call it "over") -protective.**

_**AphroditeIncarnate**_**: I didn't really put him in until I decided Mercy needed a bodyguard, being eighteen and all. My brother was annoying when I was littler too. As soon as I hit high school, though, he became a really nice, protective older brother. (shrug). I don't think German is hard. Personally, I think **_**French**_** is harder than German. Again, (shrug). It depends on context. Because if you are referencing verbs, they are naturally "to go", meaning you don't need zu. But, if you're talking about going TO bed, you need zu.**

_**Piratess of Summer**_**: (sigh). Did you get my PM? Anyways, I'm happy I found my flash drive too!**

**Enjoy this taste of romance sprinkled on thoughts.**

_Chapter 12: Thoughts_

"Your Highness," Renold Smithson had greeted the next morning after meeting his mistress.

"Good Morning, Smithson." She smiled. The little eight-year-old would easily be a court jewel. She turned down the hallway and he trailed her, watching the whole surroundings like he'd been taught during fighting. He was tensed, ready to spring… Princess Mercy stopped and her guard very nearly fell over her. She laughed. "You are not like the other guards, do you know that?"

_Other than the fact that I'm far too young for this sort of thing?_ He muttered to himself. "Is that a compliment or a criticism, Your Highness?"

"Compliment, Smithson – may I call you Renold?" She turned and looked up into his eyes.

"Of course, Your Highness," The guard said carefully. _What game is she up to now?_ "You need not ask."

She smiled again. He noticed she smiled easily. "I feel the need. You are still a human being."

Renold nodded. "Thank you, Your Highness."

"I think this is the start of a long friendship, Renold Smithson." Mercy kept walking.

- - - - - - - - - -

"Tell Her Highness Princess Hannah of Bavar that I will meet her in the stables at two bells before noon." Marcus ordered Thomas, his guard. "Also tell her she _must_ bring Finny along." Thomas nodded and ran off.

Today. Today was a fine day. Sure, last night was beautiful, Hannah dancing with him after dinner, but today. Today she'd see his hunting skills, many times better since the last time she was in Hanor. Perfected to that of the great golden cats she spoke of in her southern plains.

Today was definitely a fine day.

At nine bells, Marcus was restlessly pacing his room in hunting gear. He was very irritated. Why did time seem to move slower when he most wanted something?

He heard the bell tower toll.

Nine bells, fifteen minutes.

He paced nervously. He tried to write, but his nerves were on edge and he couldn't stop pacing.

He heard the bell tower toll.

Nine bells, half past.

He tried to sit and relax in a chair by window and gaze at the mountainous scenery.

He heard the bell tower toll.

Nine bells, forty-five minutes.

He couldn't stand it. Irritated with how slow it was all going, he walked out to the stables to get the horses prepared to be ridden and warmed up.

Hannah was there, smiling.

"How long have you been there?" He asked after placing a chaste kiss on her cheek.

The dark southerner smiled. "Only ten minutes." She laughed at his expression. "You are such a darling, dear Marcus." She held his hand and patted it. "It was so funny to see you pace in front of that window."

"I was _amusing_ you?" He muttered and they went over the spare horses.

"May I ride Winter's Chill?" Hannah asked with a smile.

"Winter's Chill is not mine to loan." Marcus replied carefully. "He is Renold Smithson's."

Hannah's face fell as she brushed past the dappled horse. "Her?"

"Eiber." He whispered. "Eiber is the winning draft horse from last year's games." The horse was sturdy and a good line was through him. "We want hunting horses, not plow-pullers." They continued onto two thin, but sturdy horses.

They were agile, Marcus explained to Hannah. And bred for the forests of northern Hanor to brave the dangerous cold, but still be able to dodge the trees blanketed in ice and snow.

"Wow." Hannah whispered touching the black horse's nose. "You are such a beauty."

"Southern Heart." Marcus whispered to her, wrapping his arms around her waist. "A good mare if ever there was one."

The princess turned in the circle of his arms to face him. "Is that hint?" She murmured placing a hand on his weathered cheeks. "Are you going to tell me that Southern Heart also had a lot of good foals as well?"

Marcus nuzzled her nose. "I was going to tell you later."

Hannah's arms wrapped around his neck and she kissed his cheek. "How much later?"

Marcus' lips found Hannah's. The proper princess' emotions, normally wound so tightly even _she_ had trouble getting herself excited, overwhelmed her and she allowed Marcus to continue.

Someone coughed.

"Finny." Marcus muttered hoarsely and the two royals separated. The prince turned and saw Thomas next to his love's guard. "And hello Thomas."

"Your Highness," Finny said, carefully choosing his words. "I think Her Highness should stay here."

Marcus' eyes narrowed. "Are you objecting to my decision, _Dfelt_?" The irritated prince turned to Thomas, "And you Miller?"

"I have no objections, Your Highness." Thomas said. "Finny's concern is valid, however."

Hannah sighed next to Marcus. "They are right, Marcus. I should stay here, you go hunting."

He grabbed her hand. "Dflet, Miller, saddle up. We are still going hunting. I do not want to hear any more on this."

"Yes, Your Highness," Both guards said, knowing they would probably get reprimanded for doubting a royal's command. Then again, neither wanted to be blamed if something went wrong.

- - - - - - - - - -

Renold waited outside Mercy's room. She was getting ready for the breakfast-luncheon at eleven bells.

It was ten currently.

Finny and Thomas had stopped by to tell him where they'd be going, and why. Renold had convinced Finny to at least present a protest to the silliness of taking Her Highness on a hunting trip. Alone.

Renold pulled out a carving. It was of a lady, dressed in furs and silks, gown flowing from her waist to flare out near her toes. It was trimmed in furs, like the northern style, and the shoulders were covered with a small shawl also trimmed in fur. The woman's hair was pulled back, allowing only a few strands of hair to escape; droplets of diamonds on a tiara topped her hair.

Her face hadn't been carved yet. There were light markings where he'd planned on making a face for the lady, but never had gotten it just the way he thought it should look.

After all, shouldn't a finely dressed lady have a fine face?

Before he knew it, he was slowly peeling away the layers of wood to carve out eyes. Mercy's door opened and he wrapped up the figurine in a layer of cotton and slipped it into a pocket.

_Normally_, he would have heard her turning the knob, but he'd been so engrossed in carving, he hadn't even thought to split his attention between the carving and his ears.

"What were you doing?" Mercy's voice startled him, as she rarely spoke to him since he'd brought her back from her most recent tirade.

"Just a little carving." The guard said without thinking about to _whom_ exactly he was speaking. As if to make the lax comment slip off his shoulders, Renold straightened to begin following his mistress.

"Can I see it?" Her jade eyes took him by surprise.

Suddenly, his insides were gripped by terror. _How much did she see?_ He surely didn't want her seeing his fantasy woman.

"Yes, Your Highness." He slipped his hand into a separate pocket, the block of wood he only carved when there were other people around. It was a simple puppy, much like Mercy's Flora.

"Is it Flora?" She immediately recognized the markings. "She is beautiful."

Renold nodded. "Thank you, Your Highness." He wrapped up the dog and slipped it back into its pocket.

"May I see it again when you have finished her?" Mercy's eyes were pleading him to say yes.

"Yes, Your Highness."

Her eyes turned cold. "Yes, yes, of course. How could you refuse?" She muttered darkly. He shook his head after she had turned away. "I think we shall go riding after the luncheon again."

"Your Highness-" Renold started.

"We are going riding, Smithson." She interrupted.

"That is not exactly what I was going to say." He persisted. "Only that it looks like rain, and I wanted-"

"To warn me to wear waterproof things _this_ time?"

Why was she so aggravated right now? Renold was confused. She'd been in a good enough mood when she'd exited the room today, but now, after a scant minute conversation her expression had soured against him.

Why?

- - - - - - - - - -

_Why am I so grumpy?_ Mercy wondered. _Is it because I saw Marcus and Hannah leave?_ Renold took her rebukes stoically, never raising his voice or looking angry. _He's too good for me._ She told herself. _I need someone who'll lash out against me once in a while._

_Then again, isn't he the reason I'm still alive? Shouldn't I be grateful?_

_So then, why am I so grumpy?_

She started walking to the informal dining room to begin the luncheon with her parents and some advisors.

_I wonder…_ Mercy whispered to herself as she heard Renold walking. _No._ She told herself. _He's just a commoner._

_Just a commoner?_ Part of her whispered.

_Just a commoner. An insignificant commoner. A guard. A man. A lover…_ He mind kept outrunning her logic. She never could keep track of it all.

One of these days her thoughts would slip out and make a fool of herself.

"Your Highness?" Renold asked.

Was she speaking aloud? "N – nothing, Renold, thank you." She checked her throat to make sure she wasn't.

She wasn't, thank _God_.

How embarrassing if Renold had overheard her thoughts about him.

Immediately, a thought of her far-too-handsome guard popped into her head. She felt her insides first clench at the picture, wondering how in God's name she had seduced herself into imagining these pictures, then, it all didn't seem so bad.

A random thought filled her head. _I wonder if his lips are soft…_

- - - - - - - - - -

**(see bottom): seriously, I DO grow them, and the bunnies DO steal them…**

**Anyways, please take ten seconds of your time to review this story. I love to see even, "I love this story!" reviews, it makes me feel good because I know you're taking time away from reading other stories to tell me I'm appreciated and that I should continue this story into its finality.**

**Remember this: About 90 percent of my stories never make onto this site. Another 2 percent never get finished. 3 percent I end up ending early because no one reviews them. 5 percent I push to get finished so I don't have a million unfinished stories on my profile.**

**Remember that.**

**If you love this story, and want it to continue until its Epilogue, tell me by dropping even a short review.**

**Thank you so much for reading this story.**

**Nixie**

**P.S. – Thank you every single reviewer who has reviewed this and any of my stories.**

**  
Another note: Is it plagiarism to post the original fairy tale, as long as I note that it isn't mine, so you all can see the original?**


	13. Missing!

**Nixiesocean: Hi! I'm back from a painful day of genealogy research after being shanghaied into by my dad. (sigh) you don't even want to know. By the way, there are **_**always**_** bumps on the road to true love, so don't expect this to be an "Oh! I love you!" :: "No way! I love you too! Let's get married" type of story line between Mercy and Renold.**

**I hate those kinds of stories.**

_**Respones:**_

_**Piratess of Summer**_**: I think of both of them needing to get out of mindset each of them had. Renold has to stop thinking of her as the little eight-year-old princess he met her as, and Mercy needs to stop thinking of him as a shadow before they can think of getting together.**

_**FeatherXLightXFeatherXBright**_**: It was pretty obvious, at least to me, that it was going to happen. I'm happy that you think I wrote it well.**

**Wanna know something weird? My thought trails sometimes follow that of Mercy's. Where you jump around, thinking of someone romantically, and it creeps me out, since afterwards, I think **_**how did I come up with that?**_** I only hope it doesn't mean that I'm in love with that guy, 'cuz that would be really awkward.**

**Oh, and **_**Piratess of Summer**_**, I hope you like the court musicians even more now. Here's another song.**

_Chapter 13: Missing?!_

The luncheon was rather boring, Mercy decided. At least it kept her from thinking of her ever-present shadow. The ladies at her side, Megara and Marita (twin sisters) were twittering on about dress fashions – the very latest being trimmed in any sort of furs – and who was courting whom.

It was all rather tiring.

"Your Highness," A voice whispered in her ear. She knew it to be Renold. "Your father wants to see you at the High Table."

She gratefully excused herself from the twins and made her way up to where her father, mother and the royal advisors sat. When she was wed, she would be allowed up there.

"Mother, Father." She curtsied.

"My daughter," King Jonas greeted. "Which song would you like to be played first while we await the arrival of Prince Marcus and Princess Hannah?"

She nodded. "I would enjoy _Homyn's Peak_."

"A fine ballad!" Her father exclaimed. "Bard, sing the song."

Mercy was allowed to sit next to her father, with her shadow behind her again.

_Homyn's Peak was a mighty high place,_

_With battlements all around,_

_But the once mighty nation,_

_Soon fell to greed,_

_And virtuous Homyn's Peak was no more._

_Ancients of long past,_

_Foes now forgotten,_

_Homyn's Peak was_

_Beset by them,_

_And soon the battle raged._

_Homyn's Peak was a mighty strong place,_

_With generals in abundance,_

_But the once tricky ones,_

_Soon fell to idiocy,_

_And infallible Homyn's Peak was no more._

_Ancients of long past,_

_Foes now forgotten,_

_Homyn's Peak was_

_Beset by them,_

_And soon the battle was on._

_Homyn's Peak was a mighty rich place,_

_With gold and jewels in excess,_

_But the once hidden gems,_

_Soon fell to commoners,_

_And wealthy Homyn's Peak was no more._

_But! Arise!_

_At the last moments,_

_Before Homyn's fall,_

_A boy arose,_

_To fend off the invaders,_

_And save his country._

_But! Arise!_

_Thrice the king refused,_

_To grant this boy's wish,_

_To defend his homeland,_

_And be its savior._

_Late one night,_

_After all were asleep,_

_The princess of Homyn's Peak,_

_Thwarted her father's wishes,_

_And granted this boy's wish._

_In another tale,_

_The battle will be told,_

_But this boy,_

_A youth untried,_

_Saved the Peak,_

_And won the battle._

_Merely by_

_A princess' kindness,_

_And a small sword,_

_Did this boy,_

_This youth untried,_

_Save the day,_

_And win the princess' heart._

Mercy smiled at the end. As a child, she had always loved "_And win the princess' heart_." She had dreamt would fall in love with someone just like in _Homyn's Peak_, but, now, eighteen going on nineteen, she knew it would never happen. So, she had resigned herself to her parents' wishes, which at the moment, weren't demanding.

"A fine song!" Someone shouted. "Sing us-"

The door to the informal dining hall (which was still fairly large) banged open. A man came into the dining hall at a full sprint. He was breathless, red, and his eyes held terror beyond even Mercy's vocabulary. He didn't stop to bow, but came over to the king and knelt, shaking, before him mumbling.

"Kill me!" The guard cried hysterically. "They're gone! Their Highnesses have vanished!" He was frantic, and spoke little sense. His words did nothing to ease the apprehension in the room. He babbled endlessly.

"_Quiet_!" King Jonas' voice boomed over the gathered crowd, who were now worriedly chattering. "Guardsman Thomas, come with me." The king, his wife, and his daughter left.

The king's High Advisor and cousin, Baron David Isaac, spoke instead. "We will leave, and none of this is to be spoken of aloud. Should I _hear rumors_ about it, the rumor-whisperer and the person in the rumor will be brought before me, and there will be a trial! Dismissed!"

The crowd left and Baron David went into the side room to speak with the guard.

No man could weep as much as this guardsman. He had been trained since eight to be elite, disciplined and everything that made the King's Guard the best in the nation.

And he was crying. Mercy's world was crashing down around her head.

"We follow Their Highnesses into the forest. Once, they passed a bend. We came around it, expecting them to be there, but they weren't. Gone. Vanished." He reported through tears. "Then, a monster – something unholy – jumped out and killed Finny right before my eyes. It ripped out–" He stopped; realizing ladies were in the room and probably shouldn't give the king the gruesome details now.

"How did Finny die?" His Majesty persisted. "My wife and daughter can handle the truth, true ladies can."

"Yes, Sire." Thomas replied meekly. "The monster ripped out Finny's throat. There – There was a lot blood, some of it still covers me." For the first time, Mercy noticed the blood splatters covering his chest plate. He gulped and continued onward with his tale. "I saw a specter of some sort also, chasing me out of the woods. I tried to find Their Highnesses, but they didn't respond to calls, and I heard no calls for help."

"_Why was Hannah hunting with Marcus?_" The king hissed. "Did not it occur to you that maybe, _just maybe_, the princess of Bavar was worth more than a measly hunt?"

"Yes, Sire, but, Sire, Marcus would hear naught of it. He insisted one hunt with his fiancée would do them both some good, so Finny and I left with them, like normal."

Queen Anna pressed a hand on the fuming king's back. "My lord, I think that maybe we should send out a large group – a platoon is it? – to search for them."

Mercy stood and left. Renold followed silently.

_Why had they left her? She would have gone! She would have helped them elope!_

- - - - - - - - -

Renold and Mercy were back in her parlor, the one of the few times the guard had been allowed in it. She was pacing back and forth.

"Why did they leave?" She asked her guard. "Mother and Father would have let them be wed. Hannah is still new here." Renold didn't know if he should speak, so he kept silent. "This is all too much!" She shouted, flinging her hands wide. Her hands brushed a stack of drawings she had recently pulled out of her drawers. The force scattered the delicate papers everywhere.

She scowled; Renold immediately began picking them up. There was a very old one that the commoner found. It was dated ten years ago, almost exactly. "Your Highness?" He asked, holding it out to her.

She glanced at it. "Oh my God," was her response.

Marcus and Hannah were on the parchment, with charcoal. It was slightly smudged with age, but the picture was still clear. The two – far younger – people were both looking dazed. Marcus' golden hair framed his face like a lion's mane, and Hannah's seemed smoother and, maybe, coated with film.

She shivered. "They disappeared in that forest, didn't they?"

"They did, Your Highness." Renold added. He handed her the rest of the papers.

"Would it make sense if I said I think something terrible happened?"

"Yes, Your Highness, it would."

Mercy's calm snapped, the pressure of Marcus missing, Hannah gone and now Renold being so formal although they'd been together for ten years was starting to annoy her. "Stop calling me that! I'm sick of it. You know me well enough to call me 'Mercy' once in a while! And if you're so worried about propriety called me 'Mercy _Anna_', but for God's sake drop the damn title!"

Renold blinked. "Yes, Mercy Anna." He replied meekly, knowing he'd made a mistake somewhere along the line. He shivered under the light chain he wore. Mercy made no comment.

His brain was telling him to keep repeating it, take this chance to use her name, rather than the far more distant title. His heart was telling him to take this chance, to get closer.

He closed his eyes and forced the emotions away.

- - - - - - - - -

_I can't believe it._ Mercy told herself. _I just yelled at Renold. He never did anything wrong. Why do I always – as the commoners say – blow up at him when it's never his fault?_ Renold was still kneeling, his eyes closed.

"Um," Mercy started, "I am – I'm sorry I yelled at you, Renold. It wasn't your fault."

His eyes opened and flicked up to her. "It is fine."

Mercy black-haired head shook. "It's not fine. I yelled at you, when it wasn't your fault."

His light eyes reminded her of Marcus; he also had the blonde hair of the native northerners. She didn't. To her fellow Hanorans, she was exotic. Her mother was a descendent of Unuquat, thus the darker hair and brighter eyes.

He nodded.

Mercy sighed. "I am being foolish, am I not?" Renold said nothing. _He probably thinks I'm testing him._ "I am, be free to say it." Still the guard said nothing; he was still kneeling on the ground. "Oh, stand up." She muttered turning away to look out the window at Mont vei Frka'ohna ae Lynka, the one Hannah had asked about so long ago.

"Of course, Mercy Anna."

Mercy sighed, knowing he'd probably never call her by her first name. "You can transfer if you would like. The job never says 'get yelled at by the princess', you know."

_Please don't._ She whispered inside herself. _Don't transfer._

"I am content here. I have been here for ten years, I like it."

_He likes getting yelled at by me?_ She nodded and smiled. "Thank you."


	14. Escaping Her Shadow

**Nixiesocean: Now, for the true enchantment to begin. It will take a lot less chapters than 13 to finally get to the end, I think. Most of the original fairy tale is one part, with vague descriptions of everything else.**

**But I think I shall enjoy this.**

_**Responses:**_

_**Bingo7**_**: Ha! You think Renold's going along? Bwhahaha! No, of course not. Mercy needs to find some inner strength without her shadow. (grin) by the end you'll know what happened to our passionate pair.**

_**Aphrodite Incarnate**_**: This fairy tale, as said in chapter 2 after **_**Piratess of Summer**_** correctly guess it, is **_**The Lion and the Frog**_**. I hadn't heard of it 'til I was bored and went to go read my father's Grimms' Fairy Tale book. Anyways, this chapter is the start of the main part of the tale. You could say Renold is Mercy's non-literal human punching bag.**

**Onto the story, my faithful readers!**

_Chapter 14: Escaping Her Shadow_

Mercy awoke. She remembered dimly sending Renold away, to think she had told him. The look in his eyes told her he didn't believe her.

She had cried. All night until she was too tired to even get up and wipe the rouge from her cheeks, she cried. She cried herself to sleep, wondering why Marcus hadn't even bothered to come back for her, for she would have run too. Baron David would take the throne, being after Marcus.

She rubbed her eyes; they were puffy. She went to a mirror to see if she was presentable. Her eyes were bloodshot. She sniffed and wiped her nose with a kerchief laying on her dressing table. A light knock brought her out of her misery.

_Why did Marcus leave me? Doesn't he love me?_ She wondered. "Come in," She mumbled. The door opened. A maid carried her breakfast. "I am not eating today, Meg." She whispered.

"Yes, of course, Your Highness, should I send for Queen Anna?" She asked.

"Y – no." Mercy amended. "I fear I shall be bedridden today. Tell her not to expect much of me today."

"Of course, Your Highness." Meg left. The room seemed quieter. Although her walls were pale yellow, with frescoes, paintings and her own drawings it seemed dimmer, darker. She pulled the heavy drapes shut.

She sat down on her bed. More tears clouded her vision and she plummeted further into her despair. With Marcus gone, after her father died, Baron David – her second cousin – could force her to marry, to increase his own wealth.

Yes, he was kind, but power can corrupt. Money tempts even the purest soul. Mercy took solace in the fact that he was already married – in Hanoran law, you had to be to take a title, except in extreme cases, or with princes and princesses – and couldn't force her to marry himself to secure the throne.

Everything came crashing down around her. She had allowed her frustration to flow over, and had yelled at the one person who wasn't related to her and still stayed around, even through her worst tirades. She wept harder.

Another knock forced her to swallow the tears and sit up. She rubbed her nose with a finger and sighed. It opened forcing light into the room.

"Mercy Anna!" Her mother's voice was full of disdain. "What nonsense is this?"

"Mama!" She hadn't called her mother that in… years…

Her mother walked over and threw open the drapes she had just closed. "I expect you to take this like a woman, not some weepy … _child_!"

Mercy gave a dry laugh. "Men say women _are_ weepy, Mother."

She sighed. "That is _not_ what I meant!" She sat down on the bed and looked her daughter in the eyes. "My _son_ is missing, Mercy, a third of my heart disappeared. You think I am not feeling it?"

Mercy sniffed. "Who holds the other two-thirds?"

She smiled kindly. "One-third for you, and one-third for my husband. But that is not the point. Your behavior is quite uncalled for!"

"_Uncalled for_?" The princess nearly screamed. "My brother goes missing in that God-curst forest with Hannah, my _friend_, and you think I shouldn't be sad? What do you want me to do, _find them myself_? My God, Mother! At least I'm fully related to Marcus!" That stung her more than she'd intended. The queen visibly flinched. "I'm – I am _so_ sorry, Mother, I didn't – I did not mean that."

She stood and brushed off her dress. Mercy noticed tears at the edges of her eyes. "But you did." With that, she swept out of Mercy's room.

With that, Mercy flung herself over the bed and cried more. She'd ruined relations with her mother, her favorite and only brother was gone – possibly _dead_ and… Mercy sniffed again.

She wouldn't think about what might've happen to the pair. She sighed. She couldn't keep this up. Crying was tiring. She sighed and went to her dresser to pull out a dress and ring a maid, but stopped. She blinked and pulled open a drawer.

There, on the top of everything, was a pair of trousers and a loose shirt. She pulled them out. They were slightly dirty, but mostly unused. She slipped out of the nightgown she wore and found some clean underclothes. She dressed and pulled her hair up in a bun. Mercy pulled some thick boots and stockings out from under the dresser and put them on. Then, she opened a dresser drawer and pulled out the fine dagger Marcus had gifted her so long ago for Midwinter.

_How to escape Renold?_ Normally, she would ride into the forest and lose him on a turn or disappear into brush, but he now anticipated these tricks, also he'd be on double alert because of the disappearance of Marcus and Hannah.

She doubted he'd even let her within galloping distance of that twice-curst forest.

She sighed. _So, how can I escape him?_ She pondered this for a moment; then a thought came to her, _the traditional way, of course!_

She opened the doors to her balcony and sighed. The fresh wind on her face felt nice. Her loose hair whipped around her face.

She pulled out a pair of thick gloves she had ordered for whole day riding to prevent blisters. She put them on and began climbing down the trellis. She laughed lightly. _Architects need to study the old fables and stop building trellises outside a princess' balcony!_

Finally, her thickly padded feet touched the ground. She heard the door open and Renold's voice say, "Mercy Anna?"

It didn't matter if she said she was fine, or if she said she was running away. His ears were sharp enough he'd know she wasn't in the room. She ran, sprinting at top speed toward the stables before they could sound the alarm and freeze the stables and the gates.

Mercy skidded to a stop, winded, at the stables. She entered and pulled the larger doors open. She left a coin for the messenger horse she was about to borrow. She put the tack on it and mounted. The horse reared – like a picture – and she kicked it into a gallop. She heard footsteps and as she raced past, she noted the blur looked a lot like Renold.

Ignoring his protests, she fled through the open palace gates and out into the fields she normally roamed. The Royal Forest – or as the locals called it, The Enchanted Forest (how cliché, Mercy noted) – drew nearer. It was darker than she remember, as if it was pulsing with black magic, coursing through it. The trees didn't move, although there was a light wind.

She ignored the pounding of horse-hooves behind her and she urged the swift horse to an even faster pace. She heard yelling, but all her attention was focused on the black forest in front of her, drawing nearer with ever breath she took.

Mercy knew they would never follow her into it. They were too afraid of being lost like the two – soon to be three – royals. Finally, she slowed the horse down as she reached the edge of the forest. It refused to go any further.

Annoyed, she dismounted and sent the skittish horse off with a slap on the rump. She brought out the dagger she had taken from her room and held it out, hoping to scare off the "specter" Thomas had spoken of so fearfully.

Eventually, the dark forest encompassed every sense she had. It grew dark, though it wasn't even midday yet. Her eyes began seeing dark forms running about, cackling from unseen bodies and eyes that followed her. She often strayed from the path, and tripped over rocks, roots and underbrush she couldn't see.

Once, she had even dropped the dagger and spent precious "daylight" trying to find it. Convinced holding it out wasn't scaring the ghosts away; she sheathed the knife.

A dark form whirled around and whipped past, blowing her hair from her face. She couldn't help it:

She screamed.

- - - - - - - - - -

Renold had seen her disappear into the forest.

He had failed. He had allowed her to run away into what was possibly the most dangerous situation imaginable. Bavar was ready to invade, since Hannah's people had sent a message before King Jonas, and Unuquat was ready to help, fearing the safety of one of its relatives (Queen Anna). The people were frightened due to the lack of an heir.

Renold Smithson had failed. For ten years he had succeeded, he had kept Mercy safe, even when sometimes he felt like quitting and joining the city guards to be away from the stress of the job, he had stayed, and a few weeks before he turned twenty-five, he had failed, utterly and miserably _failed_.

He hated failing.

A voice echoed behind him. "Bring him in for questioning."

Before he knew it, Guardsman Renold Smithson, bodyguard to Princess Mercy Anna of Hessex, princess of Bavar for ten years, was being drug away by his fellows to be questioned in the disappearance of his charge.

He had failed.

- - - - - - - - - -

Mercy breathed in and out, panting from the encounter. She shook her head. _Stupid me. It's nothing. I didn't see anything. Nothing. I'm imagining everything. All this is a façade to scare me. The fey are trying to scare me into leaving, like they did Thomas. I didn't see anything worth screaming about._

Something undeniable happened just then. A roar echoed over the forest. Mercy screamed again, her nerves on edge.

_It's nothing._ She tried to convince herself. _It's nothing at all._

Another roar.

_It's nothing._ She kept walking. _Absolutely nothing._

The "daylight" became brighter – she assumed it was becoming noon. She kept walking further in, drawn by the darkness, though she was repulsed by it at the same time.

Suddenly, something appeared in front of her, and in the blink of an eye, she had her dagger out and crouched defensively. The dark shape roared.

She blinked. A great paw whipped out and knocked the dagger away. It stepped toward her into the only patch of light in the whole visible area.

The light illuminated a sight, the likes of which Mercy had never seen, except in paintings.

She looked directly into the sky blue eyes of a lion.

- - - - - - - - - -

**Do you like it? Review, my little readers.**

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	15. Two Demands

**Nixiesocean: Hi-i! I'm updating, again. Now that Mercy's in the forest where Marcus and Hannah disappeared, things are going to accelerate faster!**

_**Responses:**_

_**Bingo7**_**: I know, putting characters through emotional and physical turmoil is soooo fun! Anyways, don't worry. Since Hanor isn't corrupt or evil, Renold's not going to sustain any injuries worse than what he inflicts upon himself.**

_**Dark Ninja of Mount Hope**_**: Since a child is half of each parent, each parent is only directly related to half of each child. Make sense? Mercy's saying she's closer blood-wise than her mother, so she has the right to be more broken up about it. Sorry if that was confusing.**

_**Aphrodite Incarnate**_**: I loved the trellises. Have you noticed that, though? Like **_**every**_** princess has some sort of vine growing outside her balcony. Nothing bad is going to happen to Renold. I love his character too much to harm him badly.**

_**x-baby.doll-x**_**: I'm uploading!**

_**Lacrymose**_**: I'm tyrannical occasionally. (smile). **_**Every**_** story you've read is a cliffy? Well, shucks, I'm just keeping with the crowd, then! (grin)**

**I hope you like this chapter.**

**Read and enjoy.**

_Chapter 15: Two Demands_

Renold, in his early guard days, had seen the dungeons. Although King Jonas was the perfect king – fair, kind, charitable, and so forth – he hadn't spent enough money on making the dungeons more comfortable.

Or maybe that was the intent.

In any case, Renold now found himself in one of the very cells he had shuddered at as a guard–initiate. Most of the cells around him were empty – to his immense relief. His fellows had apologized, and he didn't blame them, they were following orders.

"You'll be presented to the king in a little while." One said.

Another met his eyes, "Just… tell the truth. His Majesty will know it."

_Ah,_ Renold muttered to himself, _famous last words: 'tell the truth'._

"Get some rest. With both royal children gone, it'll be a lot of all-nighters for a long time."

_Assuming I get out._ He added.

He was going over Mercy's daring escape when the cell bars rattled as his guard – how ironic – fiddled with the lock.

He stood and allowed them to lead him to the audience chamber.

He _had_, after all, failed.

- - - - - - - - - -

Mercy covered her mouth, fearing the lion would roar again. She slowly bent down to find the dagger. Her finger gently passed over the blade, giving her a small cut. She closed her palm around the hilt and straightened, determined to not let her true fear show.

The lion regarded her with little surprise. It yawned and Mercy saw the sharp, pearly-white teeth of the great cat. She looked into its sky blue eyes again.

It seemed to tell her, _"come with me"_, but she knew that was insane because the lion couldn't possibly be thinking anything but, _"what a tasty side dish"_.

Yet, she was tempted to climb onto its back.

This lion entranced her. It had golden curls and was sleekly muscled. She tentatively reached out a hand, fully expecting the lion to bite it off. Instead, it stood and rubbed her hand with its muzzle. She softly scratched it behind an ear and she heard a gentle purring noise.

She smiled and put her arms around its neck. Suddenly, her body began moving, though she wasn't telling it to. She climbed onto the lion's back and buried her fingers in its mane and held on as it took the dark forest in great leaps. Despite her getting lost, obviously this cat knew the forest, and wasn't wandering aimlessly, like her.

Finally, it stopped at the mouth of the cave. It was dark, even more so than the lightless world this forest had become. The lion began walking into it and she involuntarily shuddered.

She held on, trusting where this kind cat was taking her.

- - - - - - - - - -

"Renold Smithson," The snobby herald announced. Everyone in the room knew him. They knew he was the guard to Princess Mercy. And the fact that he was called up to the stand, and not the guard taking a prisoner up, mystified the crowd.

He was in a lot better shape than the poor wretch who had just left, _that one must've been a city prisoner,_ Renold thought to himself. He was still clean, his uniform kept and his eyes not so hollowed. He stood of his own free will, though there was a chair for those detainees who were too tired to stand.

King Jonas looked down at his daughter's guard. "Renold Smithson." He confirmed. The guard nodded. "I am surprised to see you here." He said nothing. "How did my daughter escape you? I heard she had not escaped your presence since Prince Marcus chose you for his sister's guard!"

"That claim is not false, Your Majesty." Renold said with the proper respect in his voice.

"How did she escape this time?" He persisted.

"Her Highness made very little noise – aside from the crying. I saw Her Majesty come and leave Her Highness' room. I heard Her Highness pull drawers out, and assumed she was dressing for the day, and stood at my post.

"I awaited Her Highness' exit from the rooms she occupies. I heard the doors to her balcony open, and assumed she wanted fresh air. It was not until I heard no movement a few minutes later that I became worried. Her Highness has never tried to escape out her own room before, I think because she never had a reason to.

"I am sorry, for I entered her rooms without a request to do so. I entered her room; worried she might have been hurt by someone or something. I called for her; I heard no response. I saw the open balcony and made the assumption she had climbed out the window.

"I ran to the stables, sure she would try there first. As I was trying to enter, she galloped past. I entered and borrowed another horse to try and catch her. Alas, I followed her to The Royal Forest. There, she dismounted and fled into it. I was unsure as to follow her into it."

King Jonas breathed deeply. "Do you have more people to confirm your story?"

One of the men who had brought him to the stand said, "I was there Your Majesty, I saw Guardsman Smithson running through the halls and followed." King Jonas nodded.

"I, also, was there." The other said. "I saw Guardsman Cooper running through the halls, and followed."

The king rubbed his temples. He straightened. "Guardsman Smithson," Renold snapped to attention. "I hereby find you innocent of failure to do one's duty. Come back with me."

Renold numbly stepped down and followed the king to a back room.

_Innocent?_ He repeated to himself.

King Jonas looked him in the eyes when he closed the door. "You cannot blame yourself for this."

"I do." Renold said.

"It was Mercy's choice to escape, you tried your best. I find it hard to believe that Sergeant Miller even brought you to me. Your loyalty is well known." The guard said nothing. "Resume your duties, until Mercy gets back. You can continue being her guard from then on."

_Continue?_ Renold blinked. "Your Majesty, with all due respect, but, being Her Highness' bodyguard _was_ my duty."

King Jonas laughed. "I had forgotten how dedicated to her you are!" He shook his head. "Take leave until she gets back."

Renold breathed inward deeply. "I would prefer to be on duty."

The king sighed. "Of course you would be." He patted the younger man's shoulder. "You will be on palace guard duty then. Report to Lieutenant Miller tomorrow morning."

Renold Smithson blinked, "Sir?"

His king smiled. "Sergeant Miller's younger brother is Lieutenant Miller."

He hadn't expected his king to be so well informed about palace guards. "Yes, Your Majesty."

- - - - - - - - - -

The darkness seemed to penetrate Mercy's very bones. Her eyes screamed for light as she rode the lion further into the cave. The pure darkness – completely devoid of anything resembling the light she desired – scared her, and she had no desire to climb down off the lion's back. It didn't matter if he found something to fight, she would stay on and hope the other animal didn't kill her.

She didn't dare speak. The inky blackness seemed to absorb anything and everything, even her dark hair.

She shuddered. Just when she thought she'd scream from the horrors of being in such darkness, a light appeared. At first it burned her eyes, but she soon found she had adjusted. They slowly walked to it, allowing her eyes to gently change from the darkness into the newfound light.

She untangled her fingers, and she found her hands were throbbing from clenching them so hard for so long. Finally, they emerged into full sunlight, the most sunlight she had seen for what seemed to be years.

She gasped at the sight. It was perfect, ironically, the birds sang in sweet chorus, she heard the gurgling of running water, and to make the sight perfect, a splendid palace lay at the top of a hill. The light seemed to shine right on it, making the golds, silvers, bronzes and brasses shimmer delicately. They kept walking until they reached the palace gates. There, the lion halted.

She sighed and laid her head on the lion's neck. Gently, she found it slid her off in its great paws and put her on the ground. The grass beneath her was soft and smelled better than any grass she'd even lain in.

Mercy noted for the first time that the lion was even more golden in hue than she had thought. Its fur was almost pure gold, with flecks of tan. His mane was curlier than she had seen in the darkness, and was very full. Its eyes met hers, and they achingly reminded her of her lost brother.

"This is lovely," She told it, lifting a hand to touch its muzzle and gently brushing her fingers over the delicate hairs. "Am I in heaven?"

She heard what she suspected was a laugh; she jerked her hand back. Rubbles rocked the ground she lay on. "No, maiden." It told her.

She, amazingly, wasn't surprised the lion talked. Mercy had thought that there had been a glint of abnormal intelligence when it walked unafraid through that horrifying darkness.

"This is my garden." Then, she noticed the lion had a deep voice. She suspected the lion was male. Then, its – no, _his_ – attitude changed. His eyes met hers again. "I have a proposal – something you cannot refuse. You shall live in the beautiful house and serve me, and if you carry out all my orders, you shall see your brother again."

- - - - - - - - - -

**Disclaimer: I did use a quote from the original fable. Virtual cookies to the one(s) who can guess what it **

**is!**

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter in the story. Please, review.**

**Tschüs!**

**Nixie**


	16. I Declare You In Love!

**Nixiesocean: Here's the deal: I'm going on vaca for two weeks starting this Friday. I'm giving you peeps an extra-long chapter to read. Aren't I the greatest? (grin). So, I give you chapter 16, and it's a more humorous chapter, because I introduce "the frog" of the story…**

_**Responses:**_

_**Bingo7**_**: Yes. Very pretty. Big, lean, muscled, golden lion.**

_**Piratess of Summer**_**: He's not really a jerk. Just wanting to get his own goals accomplished. (grin). Besides, if the lion said, "sure, let me take you to Marcus right now!" there wouldn't **_**be**_** a story! Ah, yes, Renold. The protective guardian of Mercy. He's balanced, I suppose. His urge to protect and his kindness is offset by the fact that he often blames himself for other's actions, like Mercy escaping! (P.S. of course I jumped onto the plot!)**

_**Nyght Mustique**_**: I promise to keep the boredom away. I don't know how well I'll fair in a 1.5 hour layover in Detriot… anyways… I hope you like this chapter.**

_**FaylinnNorse**_**: Yup. Animals love blackmailing girls. You'll find out what's up with the lion by the end of the story. (wink). I love Renold too. He's kind of like my brother.**

_**x-baby.doll-x**_**: Yes. I enjoy torturing my readers. Mostly because my friend hates it when I leave cliffhangers and refuse to tell her what's up with the next chapter.**

_**Lacrymose**_**: I really don't listen to Linkin Park. Ah, yes, I art a cruel mistress. (big laugh). And I art good at English.**

**I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

_Chapter 16: I Declare You In Love!_

"What?" Mercy sat upright. "You know where Marcus is? Take me to him! Now!"

The lion regarded her with little surprise, again. "I cannot."

"Cannot or will not?" She retorted.

He did a sort-of lion-shrug. "Both. Come with me, maiden." He turned to the now-opening doors. "You are my servant."

Mercy laughed. "I get it. I'm your prisoner. Take me to Marcus, and I'll serve you."

"We discussed this already." He turned around and swept her up in a great paw. "What is your name, lost maid?"

"Mercy." She said with little emotion.

"Well, then, Maiden Mercy, welcome to my service." He stepped through the gate, and they didn't shut, as Mercy had half-expected them to do so.

- - - - - - - - -

Lieutenant Miller looked away from his view to turn toward his newest underling. The door was shut, and the small office began to warm up. "I should say, Smithson, that I'm surprised to see _you_ here." The guardsman shrugged. "I thought you had chosen 'Royal Guard' over wall duty."

He had been there. The other guard sighed. "You were there, Miller." He looked out involuntarily toward the Royal Forest. "I had no choice in the matter."

He felt a hand on his shoulder. "You're more sensitive toward this matter than ever, Renold." Lieutenant Miller followed Renold's gaze, "Though I daresay you are more worried about our third escapee than you should be."

Renold flinched at the verbal accusation. "You would be just as worried if you had guarded the same person for ten years."

He was turned, as Miller was taller, stronger and more built than himself. "That's not the way I meant it, Renold." Their eyes met. "Let it go, man. You're a commoner. She's royalty."

He ripped out of his superior's grip. "When do I start, _sir_?"

But the lieutenant pursued. "Why did you allow yourself to? You knew – even at fifteen – that it could never be, why?" The look in the eyes of his former sparring partner chilled him to the bone. He swallowed. "Speak to me, soldier."

"This has nothing to do with my duty."

"It has everything to do with your duty! I don't want you running toward the princess the instant she comes into view!"

"Sir, I require my schedule, and then I will perform my duties, as assigned." Renold met his eyes again, this time with more force behind them.

Lieutenant Miller sighed. "You begin wall duty tomorrow at daybreak. _East_ side." The west was toward _the_ forest.

"Yes, sir." Renold replied. "Permission to leave?"

"Granted." The officer turned away from Guardsman Smithson. "Come to terms with it yourself, Smithson." He heard the door shut – with more force than required.

- - - - - - - - -

Renold sat on his bunk in the barracks. So far he had endured taunts, jests and everything else from the newer guards who had heard of his inescapable reputation. He laughed dryly. Mercy would call it a "double entendre".

It was dusk, and the other off-duty men had gone to the city. His eyes focused on a crack in the wall, and he followed it to the ceiling.

He sighed and rubbed his head, running his fingers through inch-long blond hair.

Every time his eyes closed, he saw _her_. He saw her straight black hair, pinned up with a few strands escaping all the time. He saw her bright green eyes. He saw her lightly tanned skin, from the escapes into the fields. He saw her crying at the river. He saw her shivering form as he placed her onto Winter's Chill. He even saw her furious eyes as she had commanded him to call her by her name.

Renold looked back into every memory of Mercy in his collection. He saw her trying to outrun him, when she was nine. He saw her bolting out her room at eleven. He saw her hiding between the shelves of the library at thirteen. He saw her trip and fall over a voluminous gown at sixteen, and he remembered looking her directly into her eyes for the first time, just then. He saw her eyes as she saw Her Highness Hannah with Prince Marcus as they strolled along the gardens one day, how angry they had been, and then she turned them onto him.

He had noticed a sparkle behind her eyes, and had ignored it. He sharply breathed inward. He then remembered something else someone had said as he had walked to the barracks:

_Bavar's ready to invade. Our king has been allowed one week from today to produce Princess Hannah! _

_Is it possible?_ He asked himself, the walls of the barracks seemingly melding into nothingness._ That Bavar would invade? That Mercy would love me? That Unuquat would allow the invasion of Hanor?_ His thoughts were jumbled. He stood and paced the spare room between bunks.

Just then, a messenger burst into the barracks, red-faced, panting and covered in sweat. "Guardsman! The king _demands_ you in his study!"

- - - - - - - - -

The lion required everything from combing his mane to gathering firewood from the ever-full stack just outside the servant's door. The day after she had been "saved" by him, he allowed her freedom to walk in the gardens until the sun set. It had been about midday.

Happily, she ran out the gates and strolled along in the garden. She bathed herself in the sunlight, but couldn't ignore the fact that she was a captive, and no closer to rescuing Marcus from the horrible lion's grasp.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a pond that the small creek flowed in and out of. She smiled and ran over to it. The sky never changed. It was still pure blue, with no clouds in the sky. It was never overcast, and the only thing that ever changed was the rising and setting of the sun.

She sighed, all happiness draining away. She still had a lost brother, and a lost friend. She looked across the pond and spotted a frog, under a lean-to tent, with a small red petal on its head. It seemed to be trapped on the small frog-sized island.

A tear slipped out of her eye and fell into the pond, producing ripples. The frog's head jerked upward. It hopped out of the tent and sat by the edge of its bar-less cage.

"Why so sad, princess?" She blinked, unsure of how it knew her heritage. The talking frog was low on her list of unknowns, as the lion had already spoken.

"Why shouldn't I be sad?" Mercy wailed. "My brother's in that vile lion's clutches, my friend is missing, my mother is angry with me, I'm the servant of an _animal_, I'm no closer to finding Marcus than yesterday, the lion is making cook dinner – even though I told him I don't know how to, _and_ the man I love is–" She gasped, and held her hands to her mouth.

_I don't love him!_

A small part of her spoke up, _or do you?_ It asked.

The frog cocked its head. "I can fix the cooking." It told her. "Whenever the lion demands something you cannot do, run to me and I'll help. My price is for you to bring me a new rose petal every time you need help. They're getting hard to find here on my island."

Mercy rubbed her nose. "But… can't you just hop off?"

It sighed. "I cannot. If I do, well… I'll tell you about it later." It hopped about. "Now, about this man." Mercy noted that the frog's voice was high, but more of a tenor's. It wasn't as deep or rumbling as the lion's.

"Are you male?" She asked suddenly.

It seemed offended. "Me? Male! Ha!" It waved an offended arm. "I am no bulky male!"

"Fine, female." Mercy amended. "Forgive me, lady frog."

She smiled. "I forgive you, dear. Now, about this man you love."

Mercy sighed. "That we cannot talk about."

The frog gave her a wide smile, made wider by the already large frog's face. "Ah, bleed out the poison, princess."

The princess of Hanor looked away. "I'm not sure I even love him."

She heard a croak and looked back at the frog. "How long do you go without thinking of him?"

Mercy blushed. "An hour."

"And how long have you known this young man?"

"Ten years."

"And how often do you wish this man could marry you?"

Mercy laughed. "Often enough for it to be a pest."

"Do your thoughts always lead back to him, although you may be thinking about something entirely different, such as the lion in the palace, your brother or money?"

She smiled. "Of course."

The frog slapped the water, "Then, my fine young lady, I declare you in love!"

Mercy looked toward the sky, and saw lines of orange, red, purple, pink and yellow than even the finest painter in Hanor would envy. "Thank you, frog." She reached toward the nearest rose, and plucked off a petal, nicking a finger on the thorn.

Smiling playfully, the princess set it in the water, leaned down and blew it towards the frog's island. The frog released a throaty laugh. Mercy stood and walked, more comforted and slightly happier than before, ready to confront the lion.

- - - - - - - - -

The lion yawned, the rumble echoing off the walls. His servant had just entered, after her half-day off. She curtsied with her hands pretending to hold a skirt as she entered, something he had demanded of her.

"Ah," He sighed as she came over and rubbed his back, scratching behind his ear. Involuntarily, he began to purr. "I will not require much of you, maiden." He turned on his back as she continued to scratch.

She smiled. "Will you take me to Marcus today?"

He bent his neck to look his servant. "I cannot, I told you that." She nodded, although he saw a touch of sadness. "Mercy," He began and she met his eyes hopefully, "Take tonight off, and tomorrow until dusk. I cannot bear to see you so sad."

She stood and brushed the gold and tawny hairs off her breeches. "Thank you, lion."

He gave her a weak smile. "Bring me a fruit pie for dinner tomorrow, that is all I require." She curtsied again and left his presence in the great hall. He rubbed his back more on the couch and fell asleep.

- - - - - - - - -

Mercy plucked a rose petal as she walked to the pond and lay down. The frog gave her a smile. She set in the water and blew it to the island.

"It isn't a new day." The frog protested.

"Ah, but I am far happier than I have felt since I was young." Mercy grinned at the small amphibian.

"And why is that, dear? Did you convince yourself you love this young man?"

Her smile fell as she remembered how worried Renold would be about her. She suddenly felt very guilty for not telling him where she was going. "No… the lion released me until tomorrow night." She frowned slightly. "He wants a fruit pie."

"And you can't cook," The frog stated simply.

Mercy laughed lightly, "Correct."

"Bring me the fruit, apparently our furry feline doesn't care what fruit, and I shall make the pie for you."

Mercy was taken aback, "_You_ can cook?"

The frog laughed, "I know, I know, a talking frog that can cook. Amazing isn't it? Ah, this garden does wondrous things for one!"

"Can it show me Marcus?"

"It _is_." The frog whispered. "Your Marcus _is_ this garden. Don't you understand? He's the prince of your land; he has an unavoidable connection with your country, far more than your parents. He's as wild as the lands he loves so dearly." Mercy gaped. "And it took a very foreign girl to tame him, because no one that lived near could relate. Your Hannah loves her native lands very much, but your country is newer, it holds more secrets, and that's why she wants to stay."

Mercy sat back, "You do realize how cliché that sounds?"

The frog shrugged, "It's what I believe."

"How do you know Marcus? And Hannah?" Mercy pestered.

The frog laughed, "That, my dear, will have to wait."

Mercy stood, very angry. "What is it that you two hide? The lion will not explain why he cannot take me to Marcus, and you will not explain how you know me, Marcus and Hannah!" She spun on a booted heel and walked away.

Mercy heard a loud sigh. "I do not revoke my offer of help."

- - - - - - - - -

**Review, please! I love writing this story, through all the twists and turns it takes.**

**I will try and update when I am back from my trip (to Germany!) but I expect reviews!**

_**Auf Wiedersehen,**_

**Nixie**


	17. The Frog's Demand

**Nixiesocean: I'm back from my trip. We had some craziness, but overall it was awesome. I want to go back. Did you all miss me?**

_**Responses:**_

_**Nyght Musique**_**: I had fun. Of course, I understood less than a third of what everyone was saying, but other than that, it rocked! And I have a suspenseful chappie for you!**

_**Piratess of Summer**_**: He's changed a little bit. Mercy's gotten a little ruder, though. (laugh) as you'll read. Ah, yes, Mercy admits her love.**

_**KMD3271**_**: Germany was awesome. Have you been to the Black Forest? We didn't go in, but it was so green from the top, and so **_**dark**_** inside! That's kind of what The Royal Forest is based on. I still have problems with describing things in detail.**

_**Thai Libre**_**: The original quote was when the lion was telling Mercy what she would do. "You shall live in the beautiful house and serve me, and if you carry out all my orders, you shall see your brother again." That's the quote.**

**I hope you all enjoy this chapter. Tell me if you think it's going too quickly for all this to happen. I'm getting impatient because my mind is outrunning the plot.**

_Chapter 17: The Frog's Demand_

Mercy entered the great hall, rather putout by all the happenings.

The lion noticed. "I didn't expect you back until late," He said. Thoughtfully, he added, "Though I daresay your room is still in order."

_Because you never leave this hall – not since I've come_.

"Will you make dinner tonight, since you're back?"

He never _asked_. The lion of her self-inflicted hell _demanded_.

She smiled sweetly, "Since you asked…" The lion's face brightened slightly. "No." Mercy's face turned into a ferocious glare. "I won't."

He shrugged, as if he knew it was coming, "Have sweet dreams, then, Maiden Mercy."

She didn't respond, but walked to her room, opened the door, entered and slammed the door. She sighed and sat on the bed. Her door began to glow. She gasped. A familiar laughed echoed through the room.

The glows flowed out from the door, and condensed into a solid, shimmering form. She stood and it grew more definition. The head formed, with curly hair. The body gained muscles, and the legs became more distinct.

"Marcus?"

- - - - - - - - - -

A lithe hand was on his shoulder. "You did the right thing, Jonas." He heard her say.

He sighed and blue eyes turned on his wife's green orbs. "Did I? Will it disrupt the balance of everything, particularly, Mercy?"

Queen Anna smiled. "It was the right thing to do, and Renold accepts it."

"Anyone would in his position." Jonas muttered.

The queen of Hanor shook her head; "This will make it easier for Mercy to accept a husband."

Jonas rubbed his temples, "Five more days, Anna, _five_."

- - - - - - - - - -

The shining form of her brother smiled. Mercy ran to embrace him; she threw out her arms, but flew right through the body. She slammed into the door. The princess thought she might be bruised.

The figure turned, and Mercy noticed with a pang that the laughter from the specter was hollow. It didn't speak, only met her eyes. A hand reached out, and she flinched when the spirit fingers lightly brushed her bare arm.

It stepped back, and the ghostly form of her brother burst into a thousand snowflakes. They never touched the ground.

Mercy slumped to the ground, sobbing.

-

The next morning came too early for the groggy princess. She was tired, because she had cried herself to sleep. She sorely missed her brother. The lion would demand she make breakfast, and worse: she'd have to _apologize_ for last night's rude actions.

_After all, _she thought, _the lion did take me from the dark forest._ Glumly, she added, _and I traded _that_ for a gilded cage._

She exited her rooms after washing her face and making sure her puffy eyes weren't too noticeable. She didn't wear dresses anymore. Although her closet was filled to the brim with them, perfectly fitted and beautiful, she didn't touch them; she stuck to her worn boys' clothing.

The lion was asleep when she entered his hall; she snuck across the hall and out the servants' door to visit the frog. On her way, she stopped by a rose plant and plucked a petal to give to the frog.

Although the lion was a late sleeper, the frog was up and hopping around her mini island/prison. Mercy set the petal in the water and blew it across the water to the frog and settled into a comfortable position to speak with the frog.

"I'm sorry," Mercy started, "My behavior yesterday was very rude."

"That's alright." The frog said, picking up the petal. "I'm quite used to it."

Mercy shook her black head. "No, it doesn't excuse my actions. Will you still help me?"

"Of course, dear." The green thing hopped about her isle. "What has our antagonist demanded for today?"

Mercy laughed for the first time in what felt like a long time. "I left before His Laziness could awake and give orders." Mercy lay down with her face toward the frog. "I think the lion's palace in haunted. I saw my brother yesterday night."

The frog's eyes became very large. "You _saw_ your brother?"

"It was all quite strange." Mercy told the frog of the encounter, and throughout all of it, the frog was very quite and serious.

"You'd better head back, _His Laziness_ tends to be irritable this time of morning."

Mercy didn't bother to ask how the frog knew that; she'd likely not tell regardless. "Yes, thank you. I'll be back when I get orders," She smiled lightly, "With more petals."

As Mercy walked away, she heard her friend say, "Dear, I only need one per day!"

-

Two more days passed with Mercy in the lion's custody. Her frog friend provided anything the lion demanded, from peaches to venison steaks and water to wine. Mercy upheld her end of the bargain, and never once saw a ghost of her brother.

And never once thought about her predicament with Renold.

-

Mercy woke. She didn't know why she was up so early, the sun had barely crested the hills of her prison, and the lion would never be up so early. The frog and herself had adequately nicknamed him 'His Laziness'.

She crept into the great hall. Following her normal path, she didn't make a sound, at least to her human ears.

"Maiden Mercy," She heard the lion's voice echo across the hall. She closed her eyes, breathed deeply, and turned to face her master. "I require a strawberry pie for lunch, it must be well-made, and very hot. Bring it at high noon."

She nodded, "Very hot strawberry pie to be delivered at noon." The lion growled slightly, "And of high quality." He nodded and Mercy left. She plucked a rose petal and brought it to the frog, and spent the better part of a morning gathering strawberries for the frog to make the pie.

About an hour from noon, Mercy brought the basket of washed strawberries to the frog's lake and waited. The frog piled wood shavings and Mercy watched at the frog found ingredients from all around the lake and watched with amazement as the frog created dough, and took the strawberries and made the lion's pie.

Just before the pie was finished the frog turned to her, "In order to receive this pie, I ask one favor."

"Anything." Mercy promised before thinking what that could mean.

The frog sighed. "I have a request – nay, a demand," THe frog pointed one webbed finger at the princess of Hanor, "Today, after the lion eats his pie, he shall ask you to stroke him, to soothe him into sleep." The frog smiled at the joke, but that quickly vanished, "After that, you will take the sword hidden between his bed and the wall, raise it above you head a strike the lion's head off."

Mercy stood, shocked. "_What_?!" She screamed, "Has the scent of the wood shavings made you gone mad? Eaten any foul-tasting _bugs_ lately?" She was surprised at herself, "I can't _kill_ the lion!"

The frog shrugged. "Two reasons: one, you have no choice, two, it took a long time to find these strawberries, and make the pie, therefore you have no time."

Mercy sighed, "You've given me an ultimatum then. Take the pie, and kill the lion, or… make the lion angry and risk never seeing Marcus again."

"Exactly." The frog said.

"Devil toad," Mercy muttered.

The frog seemed to bristle at the comment, "I am no toad!"

Mercy shrugged. "I don't want to kill the lion." _What am I saying?_

"Then it's a fine thing that we all don't get what we want."

_It's just a lion, why can't I do as the frog says?_

"Give me that pie." Mercy said without thinking. "God help you, frog, if this is a death sentence!" She took the pie.

The frog placed the rose petal upon her head. "I believe His Laziness is waiting." She stretched out in the sun and fell asleep.

The trip to the palace seemed to take much longer than ever. Each footfall echoed inside her skull and despair took place in her stomach. As her hand touched the large doors she thought,

_Can I kill a friend?_

- - - - - - - - - - -

**Bwhahaha. Evil cliffie.**

**Review!**


	18. Return of the Royals

**Nixiesocean: Here it is! The final chapter (not including the epilogue) of **_**Rose Petals**_

_**Responses:**_

_**Bingo7**_**: It's a weird friendship, much like what one I have. You really don't like the personality of the other person, but you still hang around. You'd be sad if they died, but you're not intimately linked. Make sense? About cliffies, (hehe) this one is too!**

_**FaylinnNorse**_**: Yep. I love cliffies! Know the unfortunate thing about them? They make people respond! If I ended every chapter with something resolved, people would be content and not review! (see above for the explanation of Mercy's friendship with the lion).**

_**Thai Libre**_**: (see 2 responses above)**

_**KMD3271**_**: Yeah, the scene switching was a little odd. This chapter is angsty, sad, happy and angsty. We just drove past the black forest, and I'd love to go hiking there. In places where trees were cut back to allow for roadways, we could see inside it, and it was so weird because everything below the treetops were dead because it's so freaking dense!**

_**Nyght Mustique**_**: Ah… but didn't the cliffie make you review? (bwhaha!) Besides, to make you happy, I wrote **_**another**_** cliffhanger! What's 'Scheherazade'? (grin)**

_**fantisylover**_**: You'll understand why she has to chop the lion's head off in this chapter. The frog has to be wittier? I'll try if I revise and repost this.**

_**Piratess of Summer**_**: Besides, you know the story. And yes, **_**always**_** trust the talking animals. That's why red riding hood got eaten by the wolf! (wink)**

**Read, gasp, be shocked, and review!**

_Chapter 18: Return of the Royals_

Dread filled Mercy. What if the lion figured it out? What if he knew the frog had ordered her to kill him? She opened the door, trying to not drop the hot apple pie. She gracelessly made her way across the hall to the lion seated on his cushions.

"Maiden Mercy," He greeted.

Her eyes flicked up to his as she set the pie on a small tray-table. "Greetings, lion."

He deeply inhaled the pie. "It smells delicious. The apples are from the garden, are they not?"

"They are." _Please, just eat it._

"And you used cedar wood for the fire." He smelled the pie again. "Ahhh." Then, with bestial gusto, he ate the pie, leaving little in the pan. "That was divine." Mercy tried to smile. "Come over here. I am rather tired. Scratch my ears." _Oh, God, no! How did the frog know?_

Mercy obeyed and settled herself near the wall to easily scratch his ears. Rumbles echoed through the hall. Slowly, she reached between the bed and the wall. There, she found the hilt of a sword.

She jerked back as if burned. The lion wasn't yet asleep, but near. After what seemed like an eternity, his breathing became regular and his heartbeat slowed. Mercy moved away from him. Trying not to disturb the lion, she reached behind the bed and pulled out the sword.

And nearly dropped it.

Mercy knew the sword, had seen it every day of her life since it was gifted to her brother. The tempered steel felt heavy to her uneducated hands, but Marcus had claimed it to be lighter than the best steel in the country. The gilded depicted the mountains of Hanor on side and a rearing lion on the other – the family crest of Marcus given to him a birth. Mercy held the lion's picture up so she could view it and the lion in front of her.

They were mirror images.

Pity took place of dread. The lion had done nothing wrong. He had rescued her, allowed her to stay in his palace and been very lenient on demanding things. Yes, when he demanded things, he expected things done, and yes, he had been a little mean on exchanging her servitude for Marcus' freedom (something he had not upheld), but overall, she had grown rather fond of the lion over the past week.

She put the sword in both hands and raised it over her head.

Just as the sword was descending on the lion's unprotected neck, his blue eyes opened. Instead of fear, there was happiness in his eyes. Peacefulness.

The sword chopped off the lion's head in one stroke.

- - - - - - - - - -

"Today." Jonas moaned. "Hannah has to appear today or Hanor will merely be a footnote on the pages history."

Anna's encouraging hand was still on his shoulder. "They will come home. I am sure of it."

Jonas' blue eyes met his wife's green ones. "That may be true, but will they come home today?"

Anna smiled. "Let us go play chess."

"I cannot think like that today, sweet,"

Her other hand was placed on his shoulder. She gently began massaging his shoulders. He slumped down in his chair. She placed a kiss on his weathered cheek. "They _will_ come home, darling."

- - - - - - - - - -

Mercy was crying. Her hands covered her eyes and she was bent over weeping on the lion's luxurious carpets. Pressure on her shoulder made her look up.

She blinked, hoping what she saw wasn't a vision, and reality.

Marcus' blue eyes and curly hair, everything about him she had loved met her. She leaped up and threw her arms around him. She wept out of sorrow and happiness, clutching him tightly.

"I thought you were gone for sure!" She whispered. He returned the hug. She stood back after a while. The lion's bed was empty, not a drop of blood stained the silks. "Where's the lion?"

Marcus took her hand. "I _am_ the lion."

She blinked. "And you toyed with me for a week? You didn't have the courage to tell me outright that you were the lion?"

He sighed and took her hand. "I was cursed to remain a lion until a maiden's hand chopped off my head out of love for me as a lion." Mercy rolled her eyes. "How did you know what to do?"

Mercy shrugged. "The frog out in the garden told me."

He laughed. She cherished it. "Let's go thank that frog." Mercy smiled and they walked out.

With every step the prince of Hanor took the palace crumbled apart. The lion's bed was the first to evaporate, every piece of furniture and artwork vanished. The palace crumbled into ruins just as the pair stepped out of the gates.

Mercy led her brother to the now-dying garden. As they reached the frog's island, they saw her hopping about, gathering woodchips. She ignored the siblings. Finally, the large pile of chips ignited.

Before Mercy could stop her, the frog jumped into the fire. It burned so brightly that Mercy and Marcus had to shield their eyes. The fire created more smoke than what should have been produced. As if a strong wind had come, the fire winked out.

Someone stepped out of the smoke, coughing and sneezing. Marcus dropped Mercy's hand and jumped across the small brook. From her position on the other side, Mercy could make out Hannah's distinct form. Mercy smiled lightly, but the lovers' public display made her sad.

Mercy suddenly remembered the danger Hanor was in. "I'd love to stay here while you two have your happy reunion, but we really need to get back to the palace." Mercy tapped her foot. "We can explain curses to the court and your father, Hannah." The garden completely dissolved around them, and spread outward until the whole grove was no longer anything but the dilapidated ruins of an old palace with an unkempt garden.

Three horses trotted into the old clearing. The three mounted and the once dark forest was back to normal, and an old game trail led them out. They reentered the world of humans and rational explanations.

As they entered the palace complex, cheers and whistles greeted them. From the spot the royals make public decrees, Mercy noted her parents, both in tears and waving happily.

The whole royal guards met them, and instinctively, Mercy searched for her own bodyguard.

Renold was missing.

They trotted to the stables as her father's booming voice overtook the crowd's noise.

"There will be a great feast tonight!" It was around two bells after noon. "I shall fund the feast for the people! Tonight we eat as one!" This was welcomed with applause. Although Hanor was rich, the people weren't in danger of starving; having roast pork was appealing.

Mercy met her father in his parlor after he had sent Hannah to write a letter to her father and Marcus to speak with Queen Anna.

"Where is Renold?" Mercy asked quietly after five minutes of hugging.

She saw her father struggle for words and feared the worst. "He was reassigned."

"_Reassigned_?" She nearly screamed. "_Why_? He was a perfectly good guard here in the palace!"

King Jonas breathed deeply. "He requested it, I assume because he blamed himself for your es– disappearance."

She narrowed her eyes. "Call him back, then! I will personally write to him and explain that my _escape_ was needed." She turned on her heel and walked out, anger nearly making the air around her shimmer.

King Jonas sighed after the door slammed.

"It's not that simple, dear daughter."

- - - - - - - - - -

There were two feasts held that night, one for the nobility and royalty, and one for the common folk. If the nobles were annoyed that they ate the same food as the commoners, they were discreet about complaints. Nobles that were within traveling distance attended. At the upper class feast, the king made this announcement:

"During the time my children were missing, the king of Unuquat and the king of Bavar both made the threat to invade, each for different reasons. Bavar, because his daughter was missing and blamed us for her lack of safety and Unuquat because, as you know, my wife if of Unuquat and he feared for her safety if the invasion of Hanor occurred.

"With the arrival of Princess Hannah, Prince Marcus and Princess Mercy safely back into civilization, these threats have turned into apologies.

"In one month we will all meet here again, to celebrate the arrival of one more into the rank of titled nobility. So, with great happiness I announce one more thing: In two months my son and Princess Hannah will be eternally bound in matrimony!"

Mercy applauded as decency required, but secretly wished all the attention the pair was getting would go away. She had wanted to see Renold as least once more before he was reassigned.

She smiled and ate after the blessing was spoken.

No one went home hungry, though the princess of Hanor wanted something deeper.

- - - - - - - - - -

**Review, please!**


	19. The Ball

**Nixiesocean: Hello all! So, here's the deal: there will be no epilogue. There is one more chapter after this one, and that's **_**the **_**(final) **_**end**_**. I've edited the previous chapter so that this one is not an epilogue (as intended) but another chapter.**

_**Responses:**_

_**Nyght Mustique**_**: Hehe. Read the above notice. That's interesting… is she killed? There, **_**you**_** gave **_**me**_** an evil cliffhanger!**

_**Bingo7**_**: The whole story of the curse will be told **_**next**_** chapter (as someone hints to in this chapter). Really? You didn't expect which part? Mercy not ending up with Renold?**

_**FaylinnNorse**_**: Nah. I could never end a story like that. I'd need to post, if only to satisfy my own curiosity! Hehe. That's hilarious. Anyways… read.**

_**KMD3271**_**: I'm updating! Yay! Cookies and milk for me! (on the subject of continuing the story, read above notice).**

_**Fantisylover**_**: It's not a horrible ending, it's a typical, Brother's Grimm ending. The prince gets his girl, the princess doesn't. That's how the original fairy tale ended. Except the subject of the princess' love story is never included, that's an original Nixiesocean-added story.**

_**Thai Libre**_**: There are only two loose ends I notice: Marcus and Hannah's marriage (not much of a loose end, merely fluff) and Mercy's love (lots of frayed ends, lots of fluff).**

**Enjoy this extra chapter. Ironically, the last chapter will be 20 (totally not intended, but the way…)**

**Please review! I love hearing from you people! Even if it's you yelling at me for an evil cliffhanger.**

_Chapter 19: The Ball_

The mysterious reassignment of Renold stung Mercy even now, two weeks later. If her family had noticed, they made no attempt to explain or rationalize it. Mercy sat at her drawing desk, sifting through all the drawings she made through the years. Her slim fingers pulled out one picture, one viewed recently.

A young Marcus and Hannah were both looking at her, with their respective personalities. Mercy understood the picture now, why she had thought Marcus had looked like a lion, and Hannah a frog.

She slipped the old drawing back into its place. Again, her fingers pulled out a drawing, one far more recent.

The person wasn't smiling, not in the physical way. His eyes held his special sparkle. His lips were set in their normal, semi-happy position. Mercy had seen Renold smile once, when she had tripped at sixteen on her gown. He had been holding back laughter, but met her eyes, and she had seen something beyond her comprehension at the time. Everything about the picture made her sadder, so she slipped it back into the stack.

But it persisted, haunting her mind. His typical inch-long hair, his blue eyes, everything about him that was so common to Hanor stuck to her like tree's sap. Her fingers itched to draw him again, to satisfy the ghost of him that still trailed her like he had only three weeks ago.

Her vision obscured; she reached up a finger and found her cheeks already wet with tears. A light knock on her parlor door brought her to her senses. She wiped her cheeks and blew her nose on a kerchief.

Her maid opened the door and her soon-to-be sister-in-law entered. When the maid had closed the door and left, Mercy threw herself into Hannah's arms.

"How did you know?" She whispered. "Do you know where he's gone?"

Hannah awkwardly patted her back. "There was air about you, and him for that matter, Mercy." She smiled. "I have no idea where Renold is."

Mercy pushed herself away, "If no one will tell me, then I'll go find him _myself_."

Hannah's eyes widened. "No, Mercy, you can't do that." Mercy was already pulling out her men's clothing. "_Please_, Mercy – just, just wait until after Marcus and I are wed. Then, you can run away to find your love."

Mercy's lip quivered. "Promise Marcus won't stop me?"

Hannah's lips broke into another smile. "I'll try to persuade him. Now, you and I are going to the seamstress and _we_ are getting fitted for our ball gowns."

- - - - - - - - - - -

Mercy found herself being dressed by her lady-in-waiting almost three hours before the ball for the newly ranked noble. Her dress was the color of snow with little silver thread woven into the fabric to give the illusion of sparkles. It taped to a point to exaggerate her waistline. It flared back out, and a semi-transparent train was sewn onto it. She wore little jewelry – only a simple silver chain, nothing that would identify her as the princess of Hanor. Nobles from southern Hanor were attending, and would likely be of mixed blood, and therefore have the similar characteristics as her.

She hoped to not be noticed at all. Her hair was done in a simple bun with hair escaping; making it seem like a black waterfall was cascading down her back. She wore no lip paint, and her mask was white with silver flecks. It had two eye slits, outlined in white-tinted-blue paint. The maid tied the mark around back with black silk thread and Mercy barely recognized herself with it donned.

With no one around her quarters, she escaped into the halls, trying to look genuinely confused. Being the princess, and knowing some of the southern girls, she knew exactly which hallways was the most puzzling.

A voice behind her startled her. She let a light squeak. The gentleman chuckled.

"A lady should not be wandering the halls alone," He told her with a smile. He wore a nondescript blue mask. His blonde hair and blue-eye combination was common for Hanor. He smiled and her heart skipped a beat.

"Ah," She replied, "But why should a gentleman be wandering the palace alone, while the party starts?"

He switched the weight from his left leg to his right. "I could ask the same of you, my lady."

She batted her eyelashes. "But, my lord, I was lost!"

He held out his arm. "Then allow me to escort you to the ball, where I might claim the first dance of you, lady."

Mercy placed her arm on his. "I accept."

They walked in silence for a bit, until her escort noted, "You have the appearance of a southerner, but you have the accent of the palace." _Stupid!_ She told herself. _I should've given myself an accent!_ "May I venture a guess?"

"You may, my lord," She whispered coyly, "But until midnight, you shall have no answer!"

"Alas," He sighed, "I shall not voice my guess."

She smiled. "And here we are, the ball."

- - - - - - - - - - -

A couple entered the party from a side entrance, Queen Anna noted without telling her husband. As tradition dictated, the king and queen of Hanor presided over the first dance, and then were allowed to begin mingling with the guests, and dance.

The couple began dancing, the female was in a sparkling white dress and her partner in a sky blue overcoat, and black pants. Even this early, the perceptive queen could identify something different about them.

She settled into her seat to watch the couple's memorizing dance as they spun about the room. She would skip this ball.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Mercy and the unnamed gentleman danced at least fifteen dances – she lost count at ten – before taking some wine and sitting down. More than once, Mercy's eyes shot over and saw her mother looking at them, and then her gaze would gently wander around the room. The king had long since abandoned his throne to talk with his courtiers. It made Mercy nervous that her mother had not joined in the festivities.

Her escort was talking. "– are very beautiful tonight."

Mercy smiled, attempting to make look like she was listening. "Of course." To her ears, it sounded false.

"You believe so? Would you like to join me in the gardens? This air is stifling."

She nodded and set her glass on a nearby table. "I would love to."

They linked arms and walked out the ground-level doors into the cool night air. They strolled in understanding silence until the pair reached a fountain, it was still sputtering water into the air, and it seemed to reflect the near-full moon's radiance.

Mercy settled onto a stone bench. _Why does it seem like two people always seem to wander moonlit gardens and end up next to a fountain with a stone bench near it?_ Mercy wondered to herself.

She felt a warm body slide onto the bench next to her. Mercy almost felt the hole in her heart completely heal. Giddy with excitement she hadn't thought she'd find at the ball, she grinned at her masked escort.

The mask reminded her of midnight, two hours from now. She sighed and leaned into his chest. Slowly, as if he was uncomfortable, she felt a warm arm drop around her shoulders.

Everything felt perfect. She had made it so far without thinking of _him_.

She closed her eyes and tried to enjoy this ball, without thinking of the high possibility of an arranged marriage, trying not to think about her new guard who didn't understand anything about her, trying not to think of Marcus and Hannah… and the love they openly shared.

She inhaled the scent of the night, unintentionally catching her partner's cologne. The intimacy they were caught in would be a scandal and, without trying to alarm him, she straightened and cocked her head.

"I think we should go in." She stood and brushed off the back of her dress.

"As you wish, my lady," He said with a lopsided grin and a bow. "After all, ladies first."

Mercy smiled and walked in, followed by him. Immediately, a dance partner spun by and grabbed her hands. She followed the steps with second-nature, allowing her to get a look at her partner. Even with the mask, she recognized her brother.

"Now, my lord, you should let my partner dance with me first," She chided gently.

"Ah, my apologies, fair lady." He knew her too. "Have you found the name of your escort?"

Mercy rolled her eyes as she spun in a circle. "I have no need to know it."

"Do you plan to be around as he unmasks?" Her brother persisted.

"As he will be when I unmask."

He allowed his sister to be swept up by the throng of dancers as another lady entered his arms and he kept pace with the dance. Many dances – and even more partners – later, Mercy found herself with her self-proclaimed escort.

Marcus' words rung in her head, and she glanced up at the big clock, it was around eleven. She turned to her partner.

"Will you be here at midnight, for the unmasking?"

He nodded, "If you will be, lady."

She leaned into him, "Find me then," Mercy whispered. Their eyes met as another man stepped in and took over. He nodded.

"A fine young man," Her new partner said in his nasally voice. "However you might find _me_ more attracting."

Mercy was offended, though she didn't let it show, "Would you care to explain? He's been nothing but a gentleman tonight." _Even to the point of letting you dance with me_.

The lower half of the man's mask betrayed his wicked smile, "_I_ am an earl, not a second-son on the inner circle with the king."

"I am all astonishment, my lord!" _Is he the one this ball was called to celebrate?_

He leaned in, as she had done, "Truly as I am an earl, that man is no true noble."

Mercy's hands slipped. _Not a 'true' noble?_ "My apologies, my lord!" His slick hands were quick to grasp hers again. "Could you explain?" Curiosity got the better of her; her partner was quick-witted.

"I shall divulge your escort's secret if you dance with me until midnight."

That would be another _hour_. Mercy smiled, all lady-like. "Alas, I am far too tired to dance until midnight." She intentionally allowed her feet to step on his, and her hands slipped out of his death grasp. She spun away and walked to a chair.

She watched her escort through the slits in her mask. He occasionally mixed up the steps, but so did some of the nobles she had danced with tonight. The clock tolled half-past eleven, and her partner found a seat across the hall. Her eyes found her mother, looking at her.

She blushed and looked away. When she looked back to where her escort had been, he was missing. The earl she had spoken with was dancing with a pretty lady who looked like she'd be doing anything but dancing with him. Mercy laughed. She trusted her escort to find her before the unmasking, every time they had been split by the dances, he'd always found her again.

_Much like Renold_, her unprovoked thoughts whispered.

_Please_, she begged, _leave me alone. For just this once!_ The cackle she heard she hoped was just her imagination.

- - - - - - - - - - -

The girl in white noticed that Queen Anna had been watching. Her escort was missing – he had disappeared when the queen was looking at the girl – and it was almost midnight. The queen of Hanor desperately wanted to know who the pair was, because they were very much in love, from what she could tell.

One minute before the tolling – when all the dancing ceased – the pair Queen Anna had been watching rejoined and they watched the clocks, hands on the ties to the masks.

"3!"

Just before the unmasking, the queen saw the white-clad girl's escort lean over and kiss her tenderly on the lips.

"2!"

"1!"

The crowd cheered, "Unmask!" just as the midnight bell tolled.

- - - - - - - - - - -

At the kiss, Mercy's stomach dropped through the floor; her first ever kiss and it was from a total stranger. He held her around the waist with one arm and with the other prepared to take off the mask. She laughed and counted down with the other attendees.

"2!"

"1!"

"Unmask!"

She pulled off her white mask (trying not to damage her hair) and turned toward her partner. She wasn't prepared for what she saw. For a while, it seemed like no one else was in the hall.

It seemed odd to her that a half-mask would make so much of a difference, but nonetheless she stared.

"Renold?"

- - - - - - - - - - -

That one word shattered his almost-perfect calm. Renold took in every feature of Mercy's face, wanting desperately to only kiss her lips again and again. Apologize for letting her go this whole night not knowing it was him she was with.

From inside a pocket, while she gawked, he pulled out a thin golden band and slipped it onto her left ring finger. He gently lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it.

"Marry me," He whispered.

_That_ broke her trance.

A million emotions erupted from her, ranging from happiness to anger. She threw her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his, not caring about the horrible break in social norm. His arms slid around her waist.

Someone coughed. Mercy blushed slightly and moved away, but kept her hand entwined with his.

King Jonas' voice rang over the murmurs of the crowd. "The ball is over, we now welcome Lord Renold of Aevron's Pass to our company." Some clapped, but most stared. "I would also like to announce the engagement of Lord Renold to Princess Mercy." More clapped, but the majority of the women stared at Mercy. Mercy led him out into the garden once more after scooping up their fallen masks.

She spoke in a whisper, he guessed she was afraid of being overheard.

"You led me on, the whole night," She smiled in disbelief. "As much as I loved the mystery, _you led me on_!"

Renold smiled, her eyes softened slightly. "One cannot disobey royal orders."

"Royal?!" She turned and threw her arms up into the air. She turned back, "I'm going to _kill_ him!" She kissed him gently on the cheek, "I was told you were reassigned."

"And so I was." He took her hand, "Reassigned to the post of nobility."

She sighed and hugged him around the waist; "I was so hurt when you weren't here to greet Marcus, Hannah and I."

He gently placed his arms around her. "You should remember the custom of Hanor. A newly titled noble is tied to his lands for one month, and then a ball is held at the end of the month, to celebrate his joining the titled nobility."

Renold felt her sigh against him. "I wish it weren't so. It would've saved me a lot of heartache."

He grinned as she mussed her hair. She would look even more beautiful. "You will have to tell me your tale, my lady."

"Marcus'. I entered into it a little late." She whispered.

He laughed. "As the villagers say, you entered it exactly when you were supposed to." She shivered slightly. "Although it is summer, the night can be cold. Come on, we need to get inside."

My _Renold._ She told herself as he led her back inside. _My protective Renold._

"Wait," He stopped just short of the door. She kissed him lightly on the cheek. "I love you."

His face broke into a smile. "I love you too, Mercy."

It was the first time he had uttered her named unadorned with titles or other names.

- - - - - - - - - - -

**Did you like? I edited the last chapter, so this isn't an epilogue, only another chapter.**

**Review, please!**


	20. The Wedding

**Nixiesocean: (sigh) it's been a long journey for me. I loved writing this story, and it had a happy ending… for everyone. Mercy got her guy… Marcus and Hannah were rescued… everything worked out all right!**

_**Responses:**_

_**Nyght Musique**_**: Aww, thanks. What a good ending. :-) I hope you like mine.**

_**FaylinnNorse**_**: Yeah, I want a Renold or a Marcus too. I didn't really intend to do a Cinderella-ish spin on it… but I guess I did… didn't I?**

_**Thai Libre**_**: I will keep writing, even after this story is done, I **_**love**_** writing.**

_**Bingo7**_**: Yep. The strange blonde masked guy. Sure she might have noticed he was similar to Renold, but (sarcastic) don't you know? In movies/books masks mean the person won't be recognized! But, yeah, I realized I never gave her that. She should have. Besides… um… she was too sad! Yeah! That's it!**

_**KMD3271:**_** If all good things must come to an end, does that mean bad things don't have to? In any case, my writing is not nearly as good as you say! This is probably my best story… and it's not even that good.**

_**Piratess of Summer**_**: (happy too) I'm glad they were able to get together. I thought it would be funny if the king gave Renold a title, but didn't tell Mercy… haha… torture by omission. I love it.**

**Enjoy the last chapter of **_**Rose Petals.**_

_Chapter 20: The Wedding_

Mercy stood in her father's study. "And you didn't bother to tell me _why_?"

He sighed and put his quill down. He met his daughter's furious eyes. "My dear–"

"Don't!" She bit her lip. "_Please_, explain to me _why_ I tormented myself for a _month_ and you didn't have to courage to say, 'Mercy, stop this! I granted Renold land. He's a noble now.'"

He bit his lip. "To that, I have no answer. I felt like it needed to be done this way."

"You… _felt_!" She rolled her eyes.

"Let me repeat what you said, 'explain to me why _I _tormented _myself_.'" He smiled. She gaped. "Now, allow the others in, I want to hear this fantastic tale of yours." The princess sighed and unlocked the door. Hannah, Marcus, Renold and her mother filed into the small study. It was crowded.

Hannah smiled and settled into the couch, nestled against Marcus. Mercy stood, Renold with his hand around her waist. The queen of Hanor found a chair and sat, spreading her skirts like a true lady.

Marcus began, "I showed Hannah the stables, and we were commenting about each horse, a day before we "disappeared". I wanted to go riding, but Hannah suggested that I take her hunting." The king snorted. "The next day, we took our horses and met up with Finny and Thomas. Finny was worried about our safety, and foolishly, I dismissed." The queen nodded, but the king shook his head. "We left. In the forest, we rode deeply, following the hunting dogs. Hannah and I turned a bend; a large white shape was there. Around us, the world seemed to freeze; the dogs lay on the ground, I assume either unconscious or dead. The white cloud condensed into a small, old hag.

"She told us that because we were hunting in her sacred forest, we would be cursed. That's all I remember until I awoke in the garden."

The Hanoran king shook his head. "Cliché!"

Hannah laughed lightly, "I heard that a beast ripped Finny's throat out. Am I correct?"

"Yes." Renold muttered darkly.

"Then, it's quite possible the witch caused his death, and sacred Thomas." Hannah reasoned. Mercy shrugged and started her part.

She glared at Marcus, "I was worried. You'd never been gone this long before. It made me sad." Renold tried to keep from smiling at the understatement of her comment. "I _tried_ escaping Renold at least once before succeeding." She grinned.

"Five times." He amended for her.

"Anyways, I finally succeeded by climbing out my window." She sighed, "Alas, Renold heard me, ran out and found me already galloping away to save my wayward brother."

"To make a long story short," He supplied, "I was taken to trial and found innocent of shirking duties. Onto the interesting part." He waved his spare hand and Mercy continued.

"I entered the forest, got lost. Something scared me, and I screamed. A roar answered. A lion came to my rescue, and I rode it to safety – a garden which was like heaven on earth." Mercy sighed. "The lion ordered me to do things like brush it, make it meals and other things. Some time later I met a frog, she helped me and told me to chop off the lion's head. I didn't want to, but I did. Marcus was the lion, and Hannah the frog. We came home, and you know it from there."

The king nodded. "I understand." The queen had a mask of polite interest.

"You are not surprised?" Hannah murmured, amazed.

"The Royal Forest is well known for mysteries." He waved a hand, "Off with you. I know you girls have fittings to have done!" Hannah grinned at Marcus and the two couples sauntered off, leaving the queen and her husband.

"_I_ am amazed, if you are not." She muttered.

King Jonas sighed. "Something are best left to the unknown, Anna dear."

"Yes." She smiled. "Yes, they are."

- - - - - - - - - -

_Hannah is stunning_. Mercy thought happily from her seat in the front row of the cathedral. Out of the corner of her eye, the princess of Hanor saw her former bodyguard turned love gawking at the southern princess.

She smiled. Hannah was more than ravishing in her southern-style wedding dress. The cloth shimmered from blue to green to purple and back to blue. Small and large pearls alike dotted her hair, the sleeves of her dress went past her wrists and her dark face was off-set by diamonds sparkling the bodice and skirt of her dress. Marcus was dressed for his station in blue with a royal purple cape.

Mercy sighed. Hannah was glowing underneath her pale purple veil and the sister of the groom could tell Marcus was nervous.

"You're far more beautiful," Renold murmured in her ear. "Even on a bad day."

- - - - - - - - - -

Hannah had never seen Marcus so nervous. His hand was calm but the air around him was tense. The priest was describing the beauty of marriage and then began chanting in a harsh tongue.

"T'kan ez nah bie Genen, angi endie haun," He raised his hands to the ceiling, "Fian vie mui Equan!" At the last syllable, Marcus leaned toward her, pulled up the veil and kissed her lips sweetly. The church erupted in applause.

Hannah opened her eyes slowly. Her heart was racing, as it did every time Marcus was near. She noticed everyone was gone.

"We had better attend the reception," He whispered. The pair walked to the cathedral door.

Hannah smiled shyly, and looked back, "It looks my newest sister is wanting a _private_ marriage." She laughed lightly and they exited, leaving an old priest giving a second wedding, to a crowd of two.

**The End**

_But is a fairy tale ever truly done?_

- - - - - - - - - -

**(sigh) I'm sad to see **_**Rose Petals**_**' end, but, alas, I have a new idea for a new story that I can't do while this story is floating around untied.**


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